The Daughter of Darkness - Rejects
by Nic-n'-Nyx
Summary: Bree and her sisters are fine with being rejected by Olympus. They're alive, and they're settling into their new home well. They're even learning from another demigod outcast. But nobody has time to learn where true loyalties lie before it no longer matters - Olympus is silenced, demons run free, and if the four want to survive, they must learn to work together... or die trying.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: Nic and Nyx have yet to sue the pants of Rick Riordan and own PJatO and HoO. For now, they are still his.**

_**NOTE**_**: This is the SEQUEL to The Daughter of Darkness – Rebels and second in the five-part Daughter of Darkness series. If you ABSOLUTELY MUST jump into it without reading everything, admittedly this is the place, but it is STRONGLY SUGGESTED that you go to our profile and read Rebels first. Thanks.**

oOo

"They are dangerous. They are not demigods. And they are not the kind of people you need to get attached to," Hades said. He glanced up and down the dark street from where he stood before the Universal Studios entrance. But nobody came down this street, not at this time of night. Not even in a city like LA. The streetlights were all out and even the sky above seemed unnaturally dark. It was not lit by the city's lights, and still it lacked stars.

"Yes, Father," Nico replied. His eyes were closed and he seemed to have heard this before, but he listened. She smiled – see, he wasn't everything the rumors said.

She knew, for she had kept track of the rumors. They were everything to her. And at long last, she had caught whiff of what she'd been hoping for.

"I'm not sure if Hunter or Bree is more dangerous," Hades went on. Inside the Studios, shadows flickered and moved, vague human shapes that were hard to keep in focus. Neither of them seemed to notice her hiding in the ditch nearby – though yet again, who would? It was stinky and damp and nasty. But it wasn't the worst thing she had crawled into on her ongoing quest for survival. "If it were anyone else, I'd say Hunter. But you… You must be careful around Bree, understood?"

"Yes, Father," Nico replied. His gaze opened and swept the streets. She tensed as it went over her, and relaxed as it left. He hadn't noticed her snooping.

"Can you handle this, or should I tell Zeus to ask someone else?"

"I'm fine with it," Nico said, an edge in his voice. "Besides, we really could benefit from the magic she knows."

"True. And it holds an advantage over my brothers, us being the closest ones to them…"

"Father, you can't keep thinking like that. This is our chance to restart."

"Yes, well, I was merely referring to brotherly competition – something you won't ever understand, son – and honestly, you and I have always prided ourselves in being unique. It'd be a shame to lose every ounce of mystery and awe we hold now, wouldn't it?"

Nico chuckled dryly, staring out over the midnight streets. "It would."

She smirked, flexing her fingers into the mushy grass. _Not so mysterious now, are you?_

Oh, she wouldn't tell anyone of this conversation. She wasn't here to blackmail or bust Nico and his father. Or the Olympians, seeing as they were working together more now. She had come for the rumors, to see if they were true. And by some miracle, they were.

A child of the Titans was alive and breathing somewhere in the United States. Not only that; Hunter was known of and tolerated by the gods. What good news for the girl hiding in the ditch, to at last hear word of such a phenomenon. The hope of this day had been the only thing that'd kept her breathing for so long.

There was hope for her yet.

oOo

**Nyx: Hello, internet peoples! WE ARE BACK!**

**Nic: Yes! You have been graced with our awesomeness once again! It's great to be back!**

**Nyx: Sooo technically this is nothing new but to say I've got the story up is great. Due to complications and a very, very crowded schedule, I will further have to postpone Chapter One (whatever I decide to name it) until June first. But NO LATER! In the meantime, those of you who still need to read Rebels can do that, or you can drool over the HoH cover coming out May 31****st****, or you can read the one-shot we have posted, or browse around some of the other awesome authors on here. This wait is purely to give me time to get more studying (for I have not written a word yet) done and to get a couple chapters in before we start posting. After that, with summer, I will have MUCH more time to write and do all my other projects, and you shall hopefully NEVER see a postponed chapter for Rejects again!**

**Nic: Won't that be the day.**

**Nyx: Thanks to all our readers, and reviews are appreciated! Our current poll, too, is on HoH predictions and we'd be very grateful to those who voted (and saved me from dying of curiosity).**

**Nic: Until June first….**

**Nyx: HAPPEH MOTHERS DAY HAPPEH SUMMER AND HAPPEH GRAD DAY (some of you)! See you in three weeks!**

2


	2. Two Left Feet

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own PJatO, or HoO, or Nico di Angelo. Rick Riordan does.**

**NOTE: I will say this again; this is the SEQUEL to REBELS, and I suggest you read Rebels FIRST if you haven't already! Thank you!**

oOo

I sucked in a breath and turned, watching and listening, feet silent in the snow. The crisp air had everything locked into perspective for me; the scene was familiar, the house to my right and the fence to my left and the street across the yard in front of me. The perspective was new. Alien, yet familiar. Not quite what I knew before. I tried once more to locate my attacker, but he had vanished into the dying sunlight, silent as the shadows.

You know what I hate the most?

Alarm clocks aside?

Big changes that aren't really changes – they're just the result of life's lies falling away, revealing now what had been the truth all along.

It's like growing up your whole life and at age twenty-one learning you were adopted because your real parents abused you as an infant. Or believing that babies came from white crane-looking birds with little white handkerchiefs. See how long those illusions last.

Or when you spend your whole life dancing the swing only to find out that in reality, to survive, you must dance a little dirtier and to a beat that has no embellishing notes.

I listened for those beats now, but they were gone. The beats were long gone. The one I'd followed in the past had died, and the one I so desperately tried to dance to now had been concealed. Hidden and laced within the shadows and soft breeze and forlorn trees looming ahead over the neighbor's fence. My opponent had vanished.

My loyal sword, Întuneric, hummed aggressively in my hands, daring him to come out. But he was smarter than that. He could afford to take his time, anyway; I was no threat…

I turned again, scanning the shadows along the side of the house and along where the cars were parked behind it. No. That's what he wanted me to think, that I was insignificant. I was well aware how badly a mistake it was to give in to that. At least, the basics of fighting had stayed the same, even if its dance had long since faded away and quietly, on its own, died.

It was hard for me to find ground, now that it was gone.

He knew this. My opponent. My attacker. I turned again, scanning the fence and the pine branches stretching above it, taking in each shade of darkness they cast. My ears rang with the silence. A car went past, hissing on the snow beneath its tires, but I ignored it.

_Click._

I whirled at the bone-chilling sound. It was like the cocking of a gun. But no one stood there, on the ice before the house; the wind didn't even blow.

No, but I could feel him here somewhere. The way a mouse could feel a stalking, hungry cat.

It was not noise, scent, sound, taste, nor touch to give him away. It was something deeper. A sixth sense, the one I'd used to scan the shadows in the yard, twisted and curled just the slightest, like a fly crawling along your leg. There but not there. Just a little telltale whisper.

Behind me.

I spun and leaned back, swinging Întuneric up before me just in time. I didn't see him or his blade – just a vague dark shape, and not noticed through sight – but instead felt it. A sword came to a hard standstill against Întuneric. The strength behind the blow made me give by two inches.

An audible snarl echoed around us, and he solidified, seeming to be fashioned from the shadows. He moved his sword to strike, and seeing the opening, I lunged –

Stygian iron screeched angrily as it clashed, our swords locked again. Before I could react, he had another blade drawn, a short dagger in his left hand. It sliced through the air less than a centimeter from my face. I moved to dodge, freeing his sword and distracting mine.

A deadly black arc swung at me from the side, and too fast for me to react, for he could use the shadows to keep up with any move I made. His arm shot forward and grabbed me, one shoulder gripped painfully in his hand and the other assaulted by his elbow, and slammed me up against the wall. Pain lanced through me and the air in my lungs vanished.

The cold edge of his sword pressed into my throat, threatening to break the skin. Black eyes glared at me hatefully from behind messy, uncut hair. His breath smelled of stale beef jerky.

Ice lodged itself in my windpipe as his sword pressed harder.

"You," he said, "suck at defense."

His gaze slid away like a fish into the shadows beneath water and he took his arms back to himself, leaving me to drop to my feet in the snow. I scowled and rubbed my throat. "Against a knife and a short sword? Yes. But I'm learning, so you can stop griping."

I'd have tolerated the comment if it'd come from anyone else. Well, maybe. But between my half-brother's sharp tongue, his new position as my mentor, and my general lack of social graces, there was little room to be polite.

But I was nicer than I had once been to him, and he a lot nicer to me.

I continued talking without pause, knowing that I had a job as his mentor, too. "You're getting better at the shadows. I hardly saw you coming, and you didn't overshoot and run halfway through Canada this time. Does it still exhaust you?"

"Not as much as before. I think the overshooting had something to do with it," he mused, walking back towards our accustomed spaces at the center of the snow-covered yard. White frost crunched beneath his boots. "Still more taxing than I'd like, though."

I shrugged and shook my head. "Practice, I guess."

He turned and faced me, the street behind him. Ten feet of stirred, white, glittering snow and the cold air were between us. His black sword fit nicely in his hands before him and stood out against the rumpled, dirty tan of his aviator's jacket. The fabric was torn, shredded, and frayed. Somewhere, liquid obsidian eyes were boring into me the same way. The air between us now was so tense, the snow seemed to curl up and twitch with anxiety.

My fingers curled around Întuneric's handle. The blade hummed and tensed. The shadows on the edges of the yard began to flicker, twitch, bend and reach…

…Blackness slammed over the world. It became dark shades and cold wind so strong it was like solid ice. Far off, something snarled angrily at my intrusion. The shadows nearby purred and gathered at my side, curling around me like affectionate cats at mealtime to the one who feeds them. I tasted them, felt them, sensed every movement with something so deep inside. Întuneric had turned to a stick drowning in the swaths and cloaks of shadows.

Fast as lighting, another blade clothed in darkness shot at me.

Here laid the remains of my swing. A strange pattern, new, slick, dirty moves, but still familiar. One-on-one was like this. Though he played to no beat and I had learned to do the same, at least to change it up too fast, we still danced.

He swerved around me as if he were flying on the wind, nothing but a streak of dark shadows behind his sword. Black magic spilled from him.

My own shadows roiled and festered, striking back, and the magic between us died. I ran at him, moving so fast it hardly took a moment, so eager tear at him and have him lash back that I could feel the urge burning in my throat.

Our blades met with the silent, solid crash of colliding shadows. He and I sped around one another, moving all at one speed and one speed only, no sneaky tricks pulled by speed. I pulled and twisted with the shadows. His own magic growled at me.

His sword swooped low and I jumped, lifting above it, and swung at him with Întuneric. He flitted out of the way and slammed his sword into me – no, more shadows, as another blast threatened his exposed side. With an angry yell, he abandoned me, and dodged.

I whirled on him again, moving through the shadows, dancing with them. Now, there was a beat. I made my own.

His sword moved for my throat and then for my stomach faster than I could blink. Întuneric parried the former, and I shot him down with shadows before he could achieve the rest. He shrieked, a sound that echoed eerily here, and fired his own blast.

I waved it aside and charged, firing as I went. His sword moved in ways I didn't know a sword could. But here, in this realm, in the shadows, swordplay was not what decided the victor.

I blasted his sword aside with another burst of shadows and slammed into him so hard, the world burst into existence around us and we left the shadows behind. Wilting sunlight burned my eyes and the white glitters of the snow shone like fallen stars –

-We collided with the neighbor's fence so hard, it shook and creaked and groaned, cracking beneath Nico's shoulders. A small grunt escaped him, and though he was winded, he tensed beneath me and growled. Black eyes glittered with a strong, furious lust for survival. The familiar hate of a raven, the hate he no longer hid from me now, threatened to dig a knife into my throat.

Yet he didn't move to attack or save himself. I restrained my instincts, too, settling for my sword at his throat. "I win," I smiled sweetly.

The light of the fight died in his eyes, hate included, and was replaced with what I recognized as his 'always face.' That expression, those eyes, that he wore all the time and could mean anything. I stood and offered him my hand. "Practice. It'll get better."

He took it, panting, and hauled himself to his feet. "I guess." The hate in his eyes wasn't entirely gone, just a flicker, unease and mistrust and fury buried beneath a half-hearted mask. He hid many things, but not his dislike for me. I took comfort in the fact that he didn't despise me as much as he had when we first met. There was a time in our past when… Well, darker things had happened, and I'd done things worthy of his hate, but I had no idea which in particular he loathed me for. Part of me wished I did. It's hard to understand the teachings when you can't understand the teacher.

He walked to the center of the clearing, snow crunching beneath his boots. The late-October sun cast orange light and blue shadows across his dark clothes. Without looking at me, he asked, "Have you discovered any more memories from Întuneric?"

I shifted nervously, suddenly queasy. "…No."

I dragged it out, tugged on the word and the tone like I did the shadows, shaping the lie. I was ashamed. I didn't want to come to him with nothing, after weeks of searching my blade. He'd believe it.

And he was inclined to. I was a good liar. But he knew to suspect my lies by now. His deep, oil-black gaze turned to meet mine. "None?"

"I've tried," I told him, "but there's nothing in it. Save the ones from the Second Titan War." The ones Întuneric and I had killed together.

He shrugged and looked out across the street. "Huh. Strange. I don't think Kronos was able to craft that blade on his own. He had to have found it from somewhere…"

_Buy it. Please buy it._

When his gaze found mine again, it was full of that strong contempt. Mistrust was laced throughout his voice. "And what of its memories from you? Do you go over them often?"

I shook my head and stared at my feet. Guilt for so much more than my lie built in my throat. The empty air to my right burned unnaturally. He didn't understand what he was asking of me, to relive even those memories…

Nico's gaze shifted to an emotion I couldn't name, and he opened his mouth to speak-

"Dinner!" someone called.

We both jumped and whirled, staring at the threshold to the house. Brook, eleven years old and burnet curls mussed from the lazy Sunday spent at home, waved at the two of us. A smile broke out across my face. The tension in the air only built – Nico didn't like strangers that much – but, now that I wasn't alone with him, suddenly became manageable. Together, there was little that troubled us. Even in terms of wordplay. The familiarity of my sister was the best blessing I could ever have.

"Hey!" I called, jogging over. I waved for Nico to follow. He did reluctantly, stepping in my footprints as he picked he way slowly to the door. "What's cooking?"

There was the creak of floorboards behind her. A dark shadow shifted in the foyer, my height, cloaked in shadows. Brook stepped aside to let it through.

My grandmother stepped into the snow, letting the light reveal her. "Lasagna," she answered my question. Behind me, Nico froze. The air was so taught around him, I could've cut it with a knife. I could almost feel his urge to retreat for myself.

Granny offered him a smile. "Hello, Nico. Do you have plans tonight?" Like they were old friends.

I shifted nervously now. She was my grandmother. She'd welcomed us with open arms. But I years and years apart had created a rift I wasn't sure how to cross.

She, on the contrary, seemed to have it all figured out.

"Nothing much, ma'am," Nico said politely. I turned and caught him glancing around, looking for the nearest shadow. He found it in the tarp of the snow blower and edged towards it. "I travel tomorrow and will be busy all week. Father and I were going to organize a few things tonight. I'll be back by Friday, though, for the next training session…"

"Oh, good! So you're free for a few more hours?"

"No, ma'am," Nico lied swiftly. "I have to get back to Father."

"Have you eaten?"

"…No, not yet…"

"Then come inside and eat with us!"

I stiffened, staring in shock. Brook dug her nails into the doorframe.

"No thanks, ma'am, I don't want to be of trouble…"

"Oh, psh! You won't be. You can't eat in the Underworld, anyway." She waved her serving spatula at him. "Now come inside before I have Hunter drag you in."

The threat of Hunter's involvement made him stop his stealth escape and stare at her blankly. His jaw dropped. "…Uh…"

She snorted and rolled her eyes, turned around, and waltzed back through the door. "Well, come on, then! It's getting cold! And try not to get snow all over the floor, please; I just mopped."

oOo

I stared at my lasagna plate, then at the clock. An awkward silence hung in the dining room's harsh yellow light, making the pasta look rather unappetizing. The smell of sauce and noodles and cheese was suffocating. The expensive mahogany table – my grandparent's pride and joy, this lovely piece of furniture – was stony and cold. Blank walls, lit here and there by pictures I dared not look at, seemed to strain away from us and the tension. Linoleum floor was hard and indifferent beneath my feet, and the chair had turned to a brace securing me to that dreaded table and the people around it.

My gaze found Brook, who was eating happily, eager to ignore the rest of us.

I sighed, turning to my left, knowing that even if my right side wasn't vacant it wouldn't hold any conversation. But Hunter's seat was currently empty. She was usually late.

At the head of the table sat my grandfather. He was cutting up his lasagna absently, waiting for someone to say something, though by the look in his blind eyes, he wouldn't wait for long. He was a well-fed man with a salt-and-pepper beard, hair to match, and smelled slightly of tobacco smoke. He had himself composed for the sake of our visitor. I didn't like seeing him a mask of a facial expression – it was strange and unsettling, even though I'd only known him for a few short months.

On his other side was where Brook sat. She had taken a liking to him in those unnaturally calm weeks. She said it was because he reminded her of her father. We also knew, but never, under any circumstances voiced the other reason; he reminded her of someone else as well. Her soft brown curls were dulled in this light, but the spark in her silver eye was untouched.

Nico sat next to her. He didn't loathe her, but had distaste for people in general, clearly demonstrated across his features. He would push his food around his plate, then meet my grandmother's eye, and quickly scarf up a few bites to be polite. Oh, I'm sure the food tasted fine, but he didn't seem to have an appetite. His gaze was kept, very strictly, away from me.

Granny was across from Grandpa and between the two of us. Her cinnamon hair was sprinkled with sugar, indicating the age that was hidden nearly everywhere else. Her hazel eyes had crinkles at their corners, indicating many smiles. Nowadays, she smiled at us, at Grandpa, and when she wanted to fool someone with a display of her teeth. Nothing else inclined her to smile, really, not a joke on TV or something stupid the dogs did. A funny book, maybe. She was neither thin nor big, tall nor short. She smelled of… I don't know, _something._ I wasn't sure if it was perfume or just her. I had learned to recognize the scent. She was warm and kind to us, shared our sharp tongue, and totally fit the image of 'grandmother'. Save the small moments of awkwardness.

She caught me looking and glared. I shrugged and blew my bangs out of my face. She knew us well despite all those years apart; she knew what made us uncomfortable, and never before had she dared be so bold and cross a social boundary like this. Nico was not welcome in our house. She knew very well this would happen. Why on earth had she invited him in?

I glanced to my right, ready to ask what to make of Nico's presence here, and by reflex turned away before I consciously even noted the empty space there.

My glance to the left, however, brought the door into view. A smile broke across my face.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late!" Hunter said as she strode in. Her long caramel hair was bleached to a dull, bleak brownish in the combined light of the room and the dying sunlight through the window. She acted as if Nico were not there. Of course she did; nobody could break the ice like Hunter could. "What'd I miss?"

"Not much," Brook answered, a smile playing on her lips.

Hunter smiled at her, then winked at me. Granny set her fork down and frowned at her. "Where have you been, young lady?"

"I was practicing magic in my room," she answered simply. "Seeing how long I can hold stuff in time. I'm up to seven hours now." She busied herself with fixing a heaping plate of pasta.

"That's pretty long," our grandfather said. Nico tensed at his voice. Blank eyes raised to stare in Hunter's general direction. "What were you holding?"

"That old bowling ball you gave me," she answered. "It has a lot of momentum. Good for exercising." A smile split her face as she turned, mischief glinting in her golden eyes, as she held her plate over Nico's head. She slowly began to tip it.

Nico noticed me watching without meeting my gaze and craned his neck to stare at her. "Hello, Hunter."

"Death Breath," she greeted him. She pulled her plate back to herself. Of course; Hunter would never waste a heap full of _food._ "Did Granny force you in here?"

Nico saw my grandmother's glare and, wisely, did not answer.

Hunter snorted and took her place to my left. "Well, glad you're here. The dogs are starting to brave Bree's presence and come around our feet poking for scraps. But they're still scared of you." She offered him a wide, gleaming smile.

Nico gave her a blank, lost stare.

"Just say thanks," Brook advised him.

"…Thanks…" he said, and turned back to his lasagna.

"So, what's the latest news?" Granny asked us, eager to start a conversation now that Hunter had broken our silence.

"I already gave mine," Hunter said. "I'm entitled to stuff my face now."

"You're entitled to eat with your _manners,"_ Granny corrected. "Anyone else?"

Brook raised her fingers off her fork, gathering our attention. She swallowed the pasta in her mouth and said, "Moon and I went hunting for squirrels."

Hunter frowned. "Is that legal?"

"For a wolf? Yes," Brook answered.

Nico frowned at his plate, confused.

"Moon is her wolf," I said. He hated me, I knew. And he'd sooner kill me than Hunter or Brook. But he was more familiar with me as well, and hate was a ground well-known. I could read that much. He would take the explanation from me. "She showed up one day and followed her around. A couple others have followed since then. She's got a full pack of six now."

"Do you want to meet them?" Brook asked, perking up.

"No," Granny said. "No wolves when we're at the table."

Brook deflated and stabbed her lasagna, muttering about how wolves made better company than a particular male sitting at our table. Being a daughter of Artemis, she didn't like Nico that much, either.

I glanced at my half-brother. News, at least, we were used to sharing. It was part of our uneasy truce. His hate had faded slowly; first he would glare at me all day while we trained, and not speak a word. Then he'd talk curtly about what the subject at hand. Then his tone would grow easier. And then he'd answer a few questions when I asked. And the latest development; a report on recent events in the Underworld. He excused it as part of my training. I had to learn of Hades, yet could not go there, so he 'taught' me the best he could.

His gaze swept over me and to the wall. He hadn't really spoken to the others much. But he gave us his news. "Minos escaped the Underworld. Medea a couple days ago. And another – unidentified, currently – just this morning. Father's still searching for how they got out."

_There _was the conversation starter Granny was looking for. Hunter frowned and, through a full mouth, said, "Seriously? What do you mean, escaped?"

"I mean they got out and are alive again somewhere, hiding out in America. We suspect they had outside help. Who helped them, why, and how is still unknown." He shrugged and stabbed at his half-empty plate again.

"Does this happen often?" Grandpa asked, looking a little concerned.

"No prison is airtight. We've rarely had people run on this scale, but it's happened before. We're working on it. They'll all be dead again soon." Black eyes burned holes in his pasta.

"Do 'yall need help?" Granny asked.

Nico growled stiffly. "No, ma'am."

She sighed and closed her eyes, fiddling with her fork. "Well, let us know if you do."

"Pluto has a restraining order against me," I reminded her. "And on Hunter. We couldn't help even if we wanted to."

"It's a small thing, really," Nico told her. "We have it under control. We don't need help. In fact, it's feeling more like a practice drill. It's nothing to worry about." He laid his fork down and continued to stare at his plate. I wondered what was so fascinating about it. I spared a small glance at my own, but it looked ordinary.

"Bree," Granny said. "Get your elbows off the table."

I did, drawing my arms in on myself and glancing at the clock again. "Nico, it's already seven. Don't you have to go?"

"I do," he said hastily, getting to his feet. "Father's probably wondering where I am. Great lasagna, Mrs. A-"

Granny flicked her hand in dismissal. "Call me Granny, please."

"Er… Great lasagna, Granny," he amended. "Thanks for the meal."

He turned, standing in the shadow of his chair. As now customary to his leave, before he faded into the shadows, one last glance was cast over his shoulder. I did what I did every time; I froze, staring back. I don't know what enticed him to look each time, or why he hated me so much when he left. But he looked at me like I'd just intentionally killed his family.

Then the shadows twisted again, and he vanished.

Hunter threw her arms wide. "At last! Really, Bree, you should've put the poor thing out of its misery much sooner. He was suffering."

Granny glared at us. "That was rude. Sending him away."

"He wanted to go. You know that," Hunter muttered. "You knew nobody wanted him here, either. He didn't want to stay."

"It was still the polite thing to do. He's a child, just Bree's age, and didn't have the chance to eat dinner tonight. So I gave him that chance. I wasn't going to let him starve," Granny sniffed as she stood with her empty plate. "You should know better and look past what you see."

"Past what I see?" I muttered. "I see a mysterious kid with a shady past and alliances to people who hate us. I wouldn't invite that into my home."

Hunter stood and stretched. The bones in her back popped. "He doesn't spend his time on Camp Half-Blood, at least. He's been rejected by Olympus, too, until the laws were made. And even now, he's closest to Hades."

"Who also hates us."

"Who wants you three _alive,"_ Granny corrected. "That's something."

I snorted. "Please. I teach him my powers, and he rambles on about random crap. He's only here to suck up information."

"He isn't here now," Brook pointed out as she washed her own plate. I glanced at mine. It was still half-full.

"Thank the gods," Hunter laughed. "I was beginning to wonder if we could use garlic powder in his plate." The idea made me chuckle. My sisters have that effect on me.

Granny scowled at us, glaring, before breaking down into a smile. "You guys are crazy. That would have been rude, too."

"Yeah, but it'd have been funny," Hunter said. Granny didn't protest. "Who wants to go play Scenario upstairs?"

"Me!" Brook and I both yelped, jumping up and down. I caught her eye and smiled. Her wide silver eyes gleamed at me.

I finished my food and washed the plate quickly, Hunter and Brook giggling about something while they waited. I let the clean plate clatter to its place in the cabinet and, together, we raced for the stairs.

"Hey!" Granny called after us. "No running in the house! And don't stay up past nine!"

oOo

**Nyx: I did not procrastinate. I swear.**

**Nic: You were supposed to send this to me last night.**

**Nyx: I wrote like fifteen versions of it last night and they all smelled worse than the litter box, so I didn't keep them! I had to finish this at like six in the morning! I'm sorry! Seriously, all freaking week I've been writing and writing different versions of this, but struggled to get it right. I've also had to go back and, as I said, make some final plotline edits and set a few ideas straight. But, we are now thoroughly underway!**

**Nic: WE ARE BACK! AT LAST!**

**Nyx: Okay, so our next update will be on Monday, unless I get a lot written and decide to post before then. (This is very probable.) In the meantime, please review! Tell us what you think! Talk as a writer or a reader; we will read and thoroughly consider every review, no matter what it says! What are you excited for? What do you suspect will happen? What has surprised you? Did my imagery flop? Tell us, please! And thanks to those who have already reviewed! You were so nice.**

**Nic: Our current poll will stay up for a while more. It is on the most likely things to happen in HoH. It allows you to pick three of like twenty things on there. It's been having great results so far! Our next poll, however…**

**Nyx: Anybody else seen HoH's cover yet? HOLY STYX. I went into hysterics when I saw that the DOORS are freaking CLOSED in the picture…. Though I'm not sure it means anything…**

**Nic: Our next poll will have to do with HoH's cover. It can be found on Riordan's site. Whoever does those covers has freaking TALENT.**

**Nyx: Agreed. Please review! We'll see you all very soon!**

**Nic: One, two, three…**

**Nyx: ?**

**Nic: I'm counting the empty Altoids cans on your desk. Six. And you throw away most of them. You have a problem.**

**Nyx: You got anything else you'd like to announce?**

**Nic: Yes. The world is planning to set a human colony on Mars. That is all. :3**

**Nyx: …**

12


	3. Scenario

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan owns PJatO and HoO. Not us. If we did, it wouldn't be as awesome as it is.**

oOo

"Okay, I got a good one!" Hunter said, bouncing absent-mindedly on my bed. Brook and I ducked to avoid the resulting swing of her scythe. Yes, a scythe, made of steel and Celestial bronze with a sliver of Stygian iron on its end. She saw our dodge and chuckled, bringing it back to her. Along the shaft, standing out in this low light against the dark wood, was its name engraved; _Anonymous._

"You," she said, "are backed against a wall. You have three enemies on the ground surrounding you, and one above. They are closing in. How do you get out?"

"What are they?" Brook asked. "The enemies?"

Hunter considered that for a moment. "Hm… Let's start with hellhounds."

While Brook thought, I said, "Shadow travel around and kill them all."

"Okay, well, yeah, if you want to do that and just so happen to have the ability," Hunter agreed. "Come on, be more creative."

"So the hellhound is, like, climbing the wall?" Brook asked, puzzled again.

"Yes. How do you get out?"

Brook smiled. "You bust through the wall."

Hunter grinned and tussled her hair. "There ya go! That's my girl!"

"Oh, psh," I muttered. "Shadow traveling works, too."

"My turn!" Brook said happily, clapping her hands. Then she closed her eyes. "Okay, okay. Here's the scenario; you're bound by magic-resistant cord and being lowered into the Styx. What do you do?"

"Pray your mother's okay with it and shoot for the Curse," Hunter said.

Brook smiled and shook her head. "Nope. Simpler than that."

"That seemed simple to me," I said, eyes wide. Will to survive? That's all it took.

"Think simpler."

"Die, perhaps?"

"I said _simple,_ not _lazy."_

"It's only lazy if there was something you could do to prevent it," Hunter said.

"Exactly!" Brook yelled, exasperated. She fell back onto the pillows. "Ugh. You two are hopeless."

"That we are. That we are," Hunter sighed, grabbing her scythe with both hands. She yanked the shaft as if to twist it into snapping; instead, the weapon began to shrink in her hands, the blades retracting (she had a spare one on its end) and changing their colors until she held a pencil. _Anonymous_ was still engraved in its side. She slid the pencil behind her ear, its newest home, and got off the bed. She stood at the window and stared down at the snow-covered parking lot. Starlight gave her contour a sharp white edge and glinted coldly in her eyes.

"Think," Brook said, her own gaze locked on the ceiling. She couldn't see Hunter's face. "What tools do you have?"

Hunter didn't answer, continuing her solemn glare. I knew what she was thinking of. So would Brook, had she looked. But I was not sure why. Even so, I didn't dare voice it.

"Yourself," I said. "Any non-magical weapon on you that may be within your reach."

"Assume you have none," Brook amended. "What else?"

"The river."

We both turned to look at Hunter. Her monotone silenced us. "The river. You twist so that the river melts your bonds, then use magic as is your wont and escape." At last her gaze lifted to us. "That's how you survive."

Brook ignored the pained, dark thoughts in Hunter's eyes and clapped. She knew there was no other cure. "That's it! Though I hope you're faster than that in reality, 'cause I'd have roasted you guys by now."

"Roast, technically, no," I said. "We'd be, body and soul, melted away not even to dust but out of existence entirely. Erased from memory. From the world. No roast."

"Pity," Hunter murmured. "Roast tastes good."

There was an awkward silence then. We stared at one another and around the room, searching the air for a change of subject. There was none.

"Hunter," Brook eventually said. "It's your turn. To make a scenario."

"Right," Hunter said, and gave her a small smile. The fun had been sucked out of the game. The laughs we'd shared over the first thirty minutes were long, long gone by now. "Two leucrotae get into your room at night. You're home alone. Windows and doors are blocked by the demons. How do you escape?"

I frowned, thinking first to remember what _leucrotae _were. Lion-things, right? The ones that could chew through absolutely anything? "Uh…"

"You could fight them," Brook said, "though one against one is pretty hopeless, anyway. You'd die."

"What tools," Hunter said in a mock of Brook's voice, "do you have?"

"Nothing that they can't eat right out of your hands," Brook retorted.

Hunter's eye caught mine, and now, the starlight in her irises was dancing. Dancing like the flames of a fire. I tied my smile away and kept a straight face, turning away again, frowning at my blankets as if thinking.

"Well…" Brook said. "It's nighttime, though that doesn't help… You could bust through the wall again, I guess?"

"And fall to the concrete twenty feet below? Good luck," Hunter sniffed.

My fingers played with the bedspread as I pretended to let my mind wander. "Hm. No reinforcements? No teams?"

Hunter heard my double-meaning. "None. Every man for himself."

"I know!" Brook howled. "You toss one of the dogs at them, they all go for it, and you make your escape!"

We stared at her. "Well, yeah, I guess…" Hunter said.

My fingers tightened on a pillow. "Or you could do _this!"_

I whirled around, throwing my weight into my arm, and smacked Brook in the back of the head with the deadly, artificial marshmallow. She landed face-down on the bed and writhed, screeching into the blankets.

Hunter dashed forward and grabbed her own weapon. Too busy laughing at Brook, I got a mouthful of pillowcase so hard I crashed into the wall. Her shrieking laughter was the only thing I heard.

Oh, it was _on!_

I howled and lunged forward, flying off the bed at her. She cussed and ducked to one side, and I shot past through empty air. As I went, her pillow slammed into my back. Then I crashed into the wall, my body twisting in a way I'm sure wasn't natural, pain lancing through my shoulder and my right arm like hot needles. I gasped, out of breath, as I was assaulted with pillows from behind.

You know, on second thought, starting a pillow fight near a second-story window with Hunter involved didn't sound like the best idea. But definitely the most entertaining.

High on sugar and pain and the surge of a bloody fight, I yelled and twisted, digging my nails into Hunter's pillow. She yelped and took it back-

-Brook's own cushion smashed into her face, shoving her against the door with a loud _crack!_ as it banged against the frame. I grabbed my pillow and leapt to my feet so quickly I stumbled.

Immediately, the small brunet whirled on her heels and snapped her pillow across my face. I saw white and felt a heavy weight on my head. A scream of victory split the air like fireworks and suddenly my feet were gone – I was on the bed, pinned.

I twisted my head and spat, straining against her. She had me pinned by the shoulders with her knees and beat my head over and over with the pillow. I tried to catch it and got a mouthful of stuffing.

Hunter laughed manically and joined in, her own ripped case slamming into my dangling feet.

"No fair!" I growled, trashing. One of Brook's knees came loose. "Every girl for herself!"

At last, as I wrenched once more to the side, I gained enough room to use my pillow. I hit Hunter first. She swung for me, but I ducked, and she clubbed Brook so hard that our younger sister fell backwards off of me. With a howl of triumph, I jumped up again. Hunter scowled, but I dodged her last strike and took to pounding her like she stood between me and the last exit to the collapsing Labyrinth.

I heard the bed creak as Brook reared behind me, but tensed, ready-

The door opened, freezing us all where we were and stealing every inch of attention.

Granny frowned at us, the light from the hallway outlining her in a halo. Her hazel eyes burned and she said flatly, "Scenario; you are caught red-handed committing the destructive and dangerous crime of pillow-fighting at nine-oh-five at night and are cornered by your grandmother. What do you do?"

"Plead for forgiveness and smile like an angel?" Hunter tried, giving her best yeah-right-if-I'm-innocent-then-you're-the-Lydian- drakon grin.

Granny glared at her and tapped her fingers impatiently on her crossed arms. "No. You stop fighting, get ready for bed, and plead for forgiveness when you return from school the next day. Anything else leaves you dead and buried. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," we muttered and put the pillows down. I detangled myself from the sheets and Brook's pillow. Hunter stood and stretched, popping the bones in her shoulders. Brook scurried out the door like a mouse and took refuge behind the locked door to the bathroom across the hall.

Granny sighed and shifted her weight, making the house's old floorboards creak and groan. "When you fall asleep in class tomorrow, I don't want to hear about it. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hunter repeated. I echoed it softly as my cousin/sister/bff slid past Granny and disappeared down the hall.

My grandmother then turned her scalding gaze to me. "You know, between Hunter getting carried away and Brook's age, it's your job to prevent things like this."

I snorted. "Me? Control Hunter? Please. She leads us."

"Maybe so, but have you ever considered playing the role of the one rational voice of the group?"

I pretended to consider that. "Let me think… Oh, yeah, I did! Right before Atlas dropped the sky and threw himself a bachelor party. You know, full-blown, with beer and confetti and who-knows-what-else."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Alright, alright, I get it. I get it. I guess Brook is more suited for the job, anyway." She turned to leave but halted. Once again, her voice had turned stern and cold. I shrank down at the scolding. "What is that cup doing on your nightstand?"

"I, uh… Put it there…"

"Why?"

"Because I was drinking out of it…"

"And what's the rule about drinks upstairs?"

"…There are never to be drinks brought upstairs…"

"Exactly. Pick that up and take it back down before you do anything else, is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed, and grabbed the china mug. It felt cold on my fingers. Come to think of it, it was chilly tonight. Clouds had blotted out the stars, and I could taste frost in the air, a gentle but edgy scent. It was going to snow tonight.

As I walked past Granny, she said, "Hold up."

I paused and glanced at her. "Hm?"

"Look at your hand. No, not that one! The one holding the cup."

I frowned at my fingers. They were wrapped around the cup in a way that felt natural. Though looking at it, I found it a little odd. My fingers were curled yet splayed in a strange formation. "…What about it?"

"You hold it like it's a bow," Granny said, almost in awe.

Now I rolled my eyes. "I couldn't fire a bow to save my life."

"No, no, not that kind of bow. A bow, like what you use to play the violin."

"…Oh." I had never taken an interest in classical music. "Okay, then." I moved to head down the stairs.

"Your mother. She used to play, you know."

Now I froze. Granny had never spoken a word about my mother. Or Hunter's. She acted like she'd never had daughters in the first place.

"I still have her violin," Granny was musing, rambling on to herself. "It's probably in that old storage room downstairs…"

I waited, but she turned and walked down the hall, leaving me with no other glimpse at the woman I'd long forgotten.

oOo

"Do you think we're lazy?"

I blinked. "Huh? Lazy?"

Hunter had her own room. As did Brook, and as did I, the very room we were sitting in. Every wall of the house was white, including mine, because nobody had ever gotten around to painting it. We had enough bedrooms for everyone because it really wasn't a house, anyway; it was two apartments, and we rented both to avoid neighbors and give ourselves space. Space – the house could use a lot of it.

Yet here Hunter was, in my room. I couldn't think of one day in my life I'd slept in a separate room from her. Brook we had met three years before, but Hunter and I had grown up together, every day and night and hour I could remember – she was there. My friend. My sister. My mother. So she tended to come to my room a lot. Or I'd go to hers. We didn't mind double-bunking.

"Yeah," she sighed. In the dark, I could make out the shape of her nose, poking out towards the ceiling. "Lazy. Like Brook said. About…"

My mood plummeted. "Oh." The house groaned and squeaked around us, lost in the wind of tonight's snowstorm. The taste of toothpaste was still strong in my mouth. "About there being something to do. To save a life."

"Right, that," she whispered. The dull tone she'd had earlier while looking out the window came back. "Are we lazy?"

My blood ran cold. Turned to ice. Were we? Gods, we had tried, but…

…Horrible things had been done in the past year of our lives. To us, by us. Horrible things had gone down with us as the witnesses. Sometimes, the only witnesses. For a year, our lives were dominated by war. Demons and magic and a great rift in a family, torn apart, feeding the knife that continued to draw blood. For centuries, people had bled and put on Band-Aids. The scab was ripped off, and war erupted, and we'd been in it…

The war was the easiest thing to remember from that point in my life. It stung. It haunted my dreams. It threatened my pulse and my breath and loomed above my mind like a hungry demon. But it was the easier thing to think of.

Alone, Hunter, Brook and I brought up the war often. We talked. We discussed. We worked on getting over it. We tried to accept the blood spilled and the lives we'd taken. Despite the guilt. Despite the horror.

And then, the hardest memories…

"…Do you think we are?" I rasped, clenching my right hand so hard my nails punctured the skin on my palm. I bit my tongue and squeezed my eyes shut.

She shrugged. "I don't know. That's why I asked you."

The bed creaked as I turned towards her, to my left, thoroughly ignoring the air on my right. It pressed down on me like a steam roller. "I… I tried, I don't know why he slipped, don't know why he fell, but-"

"-Not that! Not that," she said, eyes widening. "No, not that. You held on tight enough. Don't ever doubt that."

I trusted Hunter, but the words had been said. I was panting now, panting despite the cold, lost. Lost in the screams of a fight. Alone in a cold throne room. Save the warm hand in mine, so panicked I could feel his pulse through our fingers, nails digging into his wrist, his weight pulling us down, a wide, dark green eye meeting mine for just a moment-

-And then he vanished. His hand fell away, and he was gone. Something cold, hard, and metal had taken the place of his fingers against my palm. I didn't like thinking about that object, either.

"Why ask?" I rasped. "Why ask anyway?"

We never mentioned Ethan. Never. The memories were way too painful.

She shrugged, as if perfectly at peace. But her tone betrayed her. "It's just a question. Do you think we could've saved more people?"

I considered for a moment, ignoring the burning poison in my throat, searching. For any excuse. "…The people in the infirmary. That your dad ordered you to kill. Did you do it?"

"No," she breathed, distracted. "I didn't go near them. I waited at where the bridge had been, between Olympus and the elevator. Just sat there and waited. Sometimes I wonder what'd have happened if I'd come back."

I closed my eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. It didn't help. "I… I don't know, Hunter, I don't…"

I couldn't speak further. I turned away, to my right, staring at the empty air. My fists tightened on the bedspread. Gripping, holding onto anything, as tight as I could. He wouldn't fall. He wouldn't fall…

…But he had. He'd fallen from my fingers. Down six hundred floors and onto concrete.

As I usually felt when thinking of him, for my brain visited the memories much more often than my mouth, I could've sworn someone had stabbed me through the chest. I placed a hand there to make sure I was still solid. But of course I was. No pain this real came from a material gain or loss.

And we had been so close. Had he not fallen, he'd have survived. Or, had a great chance of living, anyway. And he'd have come here with us. He'd have been so happy. But he had left us, or had been taken, whichever way you like to put it. He was just… just gone.

It was so hard to wrap my mind around that concept.

I wished he was there. So I could ask him what to do. How to cope. But, of course, Ethan was no longer in his customary place.

Unable to find anything else to do, I buried my head in my pillow and cried.

oOo

That night, I dreamed of music.

I didn't know where it was from. I didn't know where I was. It was dark and I was floating and there it was. The song. Dancing through the air, twirling around its notes, a minor key so enticing it made my chest ache. The laments flowed like liquid. A horrible, sad song, yet so beautiful. Each note made my body hum. Each perfectly placed pitch rang in my ears, clear as a bell. The melody told me it was a funeral bell.

The song wailed. It cried. Such strong laments. So many. I wished I knew who they belonged to.

But I couldn't even find an instrument to name the music by.

Instead, I did my best to sing along, wordless notes ripping themselves from my mouth. My own laments took flight, playing with the song's somber notes, howling of Ethan and the blood I'd spilled with my hands and the horrors that to this day dance before my eyes. I lost myself in the melody. The harmony kept me in place among the thick, confusing song, making sure I wouldn't find my way back.

Gods, I cried. I sobbed. I let it take me away to my deepest sorrows. It wasn't relieving at the time. Nor uplifting. Nor depressing. Just sorrow; just a moment to wallow in it, to wail, to tell the world of the horrible things it ranked insignificant.

They _were _significant. That night, they were the most important things to ever exist.

I lifted my voice to the stars – yes, stars! I could see them above me now – and cried, my tongue forming hollow bass notes, and sang to this strange new song.

Stupid. The first thing I'd learned in life was to never speak to a stranger.

oOo

**Nyx: D,X U GUYS R GONNA MAKE ME CRY! I'm too socially stupid to know what your silence means!**

**Nic: There there, child. Calm yourself. Don't scream in mama's ear, now. Why don't we discuss the chapter, huh? You know, the point of these ANs?**

**Nyx: So yeah, still some opening scenes. Developing a few character relationships and current states. Conflict is building, some mysterious things. Yay. This chapter was a tad shorter. The next one will pick up and start throwing these puzzle pieces together. In a big jumble.**

**Nic: Please, please, please review! Review, review, review! We need to hear what you have to say! Seriously, tell us anything! Speak as reader or writer. Or both. What do you like? What don't you? What surprised you? What intrigues you? Do you have predictions? Heck, do you like the new posting schedule? TELL US!**

**Nyx: Yes, please. Please tell us. I have said this before, and I'll say it a million times more; things are written to be read. So let us know you're there.**

**Nic: Oh, yeah, you've said that before.**

**Nyx: On a different note, just kind of a side question/wondering out loud, I saw Snow White and the Huntsman. I liked the soundtrack. Very well-done. And dang, Kiersten finally figured out how to act.**

**Nic: Really? R u sure?**

**Nyx: Don't know what happened for Twilight, but yes, I'm sure… Though if they make her play Max in Maximum Ride, I will riot Hollywood. With screwdrivers.**

**Nic: Oh, and for anyone who cares, Sea of Monsters movie has been bumped up again. It now comes out on August seventh. Woot! It looks a lot better than TLT!**

**Nyx: Maybe, until Thursday rolls around, we can all stare at the trailers. Or HoH's cover. Well, until Thursday, then! Uh… I…**

**Nic: Did the socially stupid one forget how to end a conversation?**

**Nyx: Yes, yes she did.**

10


	4. Snakes

**DISCLAIMER: If you pick up a PJatO or HoO book, Rick Riordan's name is on it. Not ours. **

oOo

The doors closed behind me with a fatal _bang._ The wind they caused stilled too quickly in the large room. The air in here tasted stale, like bread that'd been left on the counter for too long. White bones gleamed and glowed in the darkness. Skulls grinned happily.

I shuffled my knees on the black marble floor, staring intently at the bones at his feet, waiting. I trusted my father, but I knew I had pushed his limits. He wouldn't like this.

"Rise," Hades grumbled.

I got to my feet and raised my head to look at him. He stood before me, at a normal human's size, black eyes glinting through long hair streaked with white. Icicles, Persephone called those snowy strands. They stood out even more than his pale skin. His sword was sheathed at his waist, and at his back, the most vibrant splash of color, his blood-red cape draped like flowing liquid.

"You," he growled, "are late."

"I'm sorry, Father," I said, watching as he turned to pace. He did that when he was upset. Though at the time I was just grateful he hadn't turned into Pluto yet. "I was, uh… Preoccupied."

"Against your will?"

"Yes. Wait – no, not like that! I…"

He turned and frowned at me, boots squeaking to a halt on the slick marble. His nose was bent like it'd been broken many times. By his brothers, of course. "Well? Which one is it? Against your will or not? It's not a hard question."

"Preoccupied against my will. Yes. But not held."

He grunted and continued to pace, letting his boots fall silently once more. The bones he stepped near – they were scattered across the floor like spilled beads – rattled and vibrated. "See, I told you they were dangerous."

"They invited me to dinner," I specified, squirming. I was grateful for the meal. But had I been happy to sit there?

No.

"Why didn't you decline, then?" he said through his teeth. Unreadable things glimmered in his eyes.

That, I could not answer. I turned away and tightened my jaw. I forced myself to think of other things – of the snow, of the escaped dead, anything but them. Anything but her.

"Did you learn anything from this dinner?" Father asked. He stopped pacing and now stood, letting the cloak settle over his dark armor.

"I learned that Brook has a pack of six wolves, and that wild predators sometimes follow her," I mumbled, recalling the silver eyes and brown curls. Dang, how she looked like her mother…

"Anything of use?"

"Hunter can hold a falling bowling ball of sixteen pounds in the air for seven hours. Using her time powers."

"And of Bree?"

I shoved the image that conjured up and said, "She's scared. To look at her sword. She told me she can't find any memories but her own, and I know she's lying. There has to be more."

Hades frowned, looking genuinely confused. "Scared?"

"Yes."

"What have you taught her?"

I stopped and thought. "Basic summoning, but she knew half of that already… How this place works, all the details she couldn't get at Mount Othrys… A little history… How to read Stygian iron records… How to make Stygian iron weapons…"

"Have you taught her what shadows _are_?"

"I've…. We've done the intro, yes."

"And why haven't you finished?"

My stomach flipped over. I didn't like discussing this. Not her, and certainly not when he was so tense. "I… You said to _teach _her, not _tell…_ And I don't know how to make her understand."

_I don't know how to do anything with her. You know that._

Though yet again, he'd given me the option to quit this job, and I'd been the one to insist.

"I understand," Hades sighed, and strode forward. I resisted the urge to step back – I had memories, memories of him when he was like this, and they were not pretty. I tensed as his hands landed on my shoulders. His eyes refused to meet mine, boring into the floor, proof of how hard he was trying to keep control. "I know what I said. But things may have to change."

I swallowed thickly. "Change how?"

"You may have to tell her some things, rather than teach. I would rather she learn things over time, and through what experience she can gather, but it's a luxury we don't have. I want you to teach her as much as you can, understood? Don't drag lessons out over days. Cut straight to the point."

Claws ran up my spine. I shuddered and grit my teeth. "Father, why-"

"-And don't come home late again, Nico. It is too dangerous. _They _are dangerous, the world is dangerous…."

"Father," I spat, and yanked my shoulders from his grasp. He looked up at me, shocked, with something horrible swimming in his eyes. "Something's wrong. I can survive in the world. I know because you abandoned me up there for so long." He visibly flinched. "And it's dangerous not to teach her magic the right way. Something's happened, and you're hiding it from me. I would like to know what it is."

The words fell like stones between us, clacking harshly on the marble floor. Mistrust rang in its echo.

"Nothing," he whispered, "has happened. I expect you to follow my orders, though, and trust that they have good reason behind them. I'm a god and I'm your father."

I bit my tongue, shaking with the effort it took not to spit something back.

He stared at me for the longest while before sighing and closing his eyes. "…Nothing has happened. But things have come under new light. I'm afraid that things aren't… as simple as we thought. You'll have to cancel your traveling this week."

I sighed and glanced past him, at his massive throne. A giant chair made of human bones. Slightly overkill, if you ask me, but it represented his realm well. As well as he knew that realm.

The escapees. The large numbers of spirits fleeing. Something was definitely wrong, and that I could believe.

My gaze turned back to him. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to work with Bree and Hunter. Brook, too, if you must. Go to them every day. Teach them what you can; if they aren't involved with our problems down here, we want to make sure they won't ever be."

"Yes, Sir," I said, and stared at the floor. Strangely, the fact that he'd told me what I'd wanted to know wasn't comforting. Perhaps because he hadn't told all of it.

"And if they are involved…"

I sucked in a breath and tensed. The idea had not crossed my mind. But now that he said it, the first thought I had; if they were involved, I'd have to kill her… And that was a fight that took so much preparation…

"I want you to learn more about them than you teach them in these next weeks. Just to make sure they're not already part of this. It's essential that we focus on them before that situation goes wrong or becomes worse. Is that understood?"

I looked up at him, searching his eyes. They were… Ah, they were tense, toys that had been wound too tightly. But something else lurked in their depths. Something dark.

"Making sure they are under control is your first priority, alright?"

Slowly, I nodded. "Yes, Father. I understand."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "And you know your second?"

"I… I have several ideas, but if you've picked one…"

"Your second is to not be late again. Regardless their involvement, they are dangerous, and should you stay a second late I fear you won't come back at all. You are to control them, and make sure they don't get the idea of controlling you. Don't stay for dinner again."

oOo

_Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!_

I groaned and hid my head under the pillow. "Hunter, you get it."

Hunter, in turn, cussed at me and rolled over.

I pressed the pillow harder, but the alarm clocks shrill blaring was relentless. _Bleep bleep bleep….. Bleep bleep bleep…_

Fury rose in my throat and made my tired limbs tremble. Fed up, I snatched the pillow up, and threw it with as much force as I could. It slammed into the clock and they both went flying clean through the air until they smacked into the wall with a sickening _crunch!_ The pillow flopped to the floor. The alarm clock pattered and clinked on the wood, shattered, around it.

"Thank the gods and praise the Fates," I muttered, and hid under the covers from the hallway's light. Out there, I could hear Brook shuffling around. She, at least, was up.

"Guys," she called, voice slurred by sleep.

"Why is _she _up?" I muttered. "Her bus comes an hour later than ours."

"She's being productive and buying herself time," Hunter sighed. "Ugh. Go get my ice bucket. It's under the bed in my room."

"Ha! Fat chance."

"Five, four, three…"

"I'm getting the bucket! I'm getting the bucket!"

oOo

School.

It was alien to me now, but slowly coming back. The past year, my courses had included magic and shadows and swords and glyphs and battle strategies and desperate survival techniques and battle drills. Getting back into the mortal world was a little challenging.

Took forever to climb out of bed, check. Downed breakfast so fast I choked twice, check. Granny called saying the bus was outside, check. Found out it was Hunter's bus, not mine, and ran back to finish trying my shoes, check. Endured Brook's morning snickers (she's often cranky so early), check. Ran down the street to catch up with my bus, check. Flipped off that mean kid Natalie as I passed her seat, check. Got smacked by her friend Janelle, check. Didn't really care, check. Late to first period, check.

Oh, I love math at freaking seven in the morning.

I had hardly finished my sixth grade year before being drafted into the Second Titan War. The school here did everything they could to mark me passing and get me into seventh. Which I should've taken that year I was fighting. I was born in August, though, so I wasn't the oldest person in the seventh grade. Wasn't so outnumbered. Though I still struggled; school was never my forte.

I made an eighty on the quiz, though, and felt accomplished.

Tech was next. We played on a computer program that made three-dimensional objects and gave me a headache. X and y were hard enough – add in z, and I'm beyond lost. I went back to 'perfecting' my sketches for most of the period.

Third was science. Seventh-grade science was basically biology. We did a little of other things, but mainly biology. Today we focused on something called 'transcription and translation', had to do with DNA and RNA and ribosomes. See, I remembered that much. The rest isn't important, seeing as I don't have DNA or RNA and probably no ribosomes, either.

Fourth was, as I was in the first semester group, music class. Natalie was in this one, but that's not why today was interesting.

"Okay, kids," Mr. Banks said after we'd finished our warm-up (listening to some stupid opera song). "I promised you we'd start guitars today, did I not?"

I couldn't remember, but I smiled politely and cheered with the rest of the students.

That day, I learned that guitars come in sizes, and if you get one too big, you can't hold the strings down right and the instrument makes this horrible buzzing sound. It scared me at first – it sounded like the poor thing was being tortured. But Mr. Banks just grabbed another guitar and said it was fine.

Then he sat at his piano, his own guitar on a stand, and used both to teach us.

Two minutes in I forgot what a fret was, and thirty seconds before that had completely lost the order of the strings. Where was the C string, again…?

"Bree, there is no C string," Mr. Banks said kindly when I asked. Natalie snickered but didn't look up from her own guitar.

"I knew that," I muttered, and plucked the lowest string.

"Ed Ate Dynamite; Good Bye Ed."

I blinked. "What?"

"It's an acronym," Mr. Banks said. "The strings, from lowest to highest. E, A, D, G, B, E. Ed Ate Dynamite; Good Bye Ed."

A very different name started with E in my world, but I did my best to give him a smile and thanked him. My smile must have looked funny, though, because he gave me that what-do-I-do-with-this-kid-now look I'm so familiar with seeing.

He went on to explain chords. He'd play them on his piano, show us a chart, explain majors and minors. Today was the rundown; tomorrow we would get into the nitty-gritty stuff and learn how to make chords based on keys and learn to read music and such. Fun.

But the chords, I listened to. They fascinated me. The music. The way the notes locked. And the minor chords…

The song. The one I'd heard last night, in my dreams. What Mr. Banks played was nothing like it, but I discovered that the song had been entirely minor chords, and felt proud of myself. One little piece to the mystery, solved.

Though it wasn't much. Minor chords make sad sounds; that was kind of the point.

Fifth, of course, was study hall. Natalie was in that class with me every other day. When she wasn't, she was in orchestra. This was where my problems started.

I was working on math homework with Kayla. Everything about Kayla was soft – her voice, her skin tone, the angles to her face, the deep brown of her eyes. Even her teeth looked dull and very non-menacing. Her chocolate hair was not as red as Brook's, and felt straight as a rod, but that had been the first thing to make me like her. I was skeptical of everyone, even those who were kind to me and introduced themselves or invited me to sit at their table; it was her hair that'd made her stand out.

"This is geometry," she explained now. "It's just a little touch, not too complicated. Surface area – most of this seems to be circles and spheres. The formula's up here. You understand the variables, right?"

I nodded. "Right. They're locks with multiple keys, but one combination."

She giggled. "That's clever. So if r means radius…"

She went on to detail the problem. I ended up zoning out (bad habit), noticing every sound in the room, the tap of pencils and the snores of Jake in the back and the mumbles of the teacher on the phone. And the arc of the circle. Ancient Rome was responsible for the arc, and the dome…

"…And I try to save pi for last, because it's irrational, and it makes your numbers hard to work with," Kayla finished. "Make sense?"

I blinked, staring at her work. "Uh… Yeah, I think so…"

"Bree, quit talking and come here, please."

I sighed and apologized to Kayla as I stood, carrying my homework with me. "Yes, Mrs. Herron?"

"I need to borrow Natalie real fast. I'd wait until tomorrow, but that's when the field trip is, so it'd do no good. Could you go get her, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed, grabbing my bag and slinging over my shoulder as I went. I ignored her order to leave it; I did not trust strangers near my things.

I had to cross the whole school to get to the orchestra room, so I had plenty of time to think in silence. It calmed me. The lockers passed by, identical metal coffins, at regular intervals. The smells of today's lunch were promising (though I knew not to expect much). I liked it.

When I neared the auditorium where they practiced, though, my ease vanished to curiosity. The orchestra was playing. Dang, I knew we had a good one, but… _That _was amazing…

I stood in the doorway and listened to them play for a moment. This song was familiar, somehow, from sometime not so long ago. Not the dream, but a song… I'd heard on the radio… It dipped and swooped and dragged me along, enticing, picking me up in the motion of their bows and lost in the movements of the conductor's hands. It was beautiful.

The teacher (didn't know her name) caught sight of me, but let the song finish before asking what I wanted.

"Mrs. Herron wants Natalie," I explained.

"And why does she need my lead violist so badly?" the teacher asked, tapping her foot.

"Something about a field trip…?"

"Oh! I'll take care of it, Mrs. May," Natalie said. Her blonde head – like a white yellow blonde, the kind that suggested bleach but I was too stupid to judge for sure – bobbed up and down as she packed up her instrument. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

She left her instrument in its case at the foot of her chair, stood, and made her way to me. Mrs. May waved at us as we left.

We walked briskly in tense silence for two minutes before my curiosity got the better of me. "So you play the… the violin?" I had never, in a million years, thought to connect this girl with my mother in any way.

My mother….

Natalie sniffed. "_No,_ I don't. I play viola. It's different. A whole string lower."

"Oh. It looks like a violin."

"Well, duh. _Only _one string. That doesn't exactly require a cello. And to think you accuse me of judging things by their looks."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you'd listened when I said that," I growled. I really didn't have the time for her comments. There were bigger problems on this earth. Though it made me mad to see her act that way for the same reason, too. Someone ought to tell her how insignificant she was, how the kids she teased were, how her hair was, compared to the world. And how precious each life was.

I turned away, knowing I could never explain any of that to her. Even if I could, she wouldn't ever listen.

Moments after I had begun to work with Kayla again, I was told to escort Natalie back. Which was totally unnecessary. Natalie didn't look happy, either, but walked out the door with her head held high. She got attention, at least. Yay for her.

I held my head up, too. I at least knew who I was. I didn't need hair dye and five tons of makeup and a pop artist to tell me.

"Hel-lo? Are you deaf?"

I blinked. "Sorry. Preoccupied." And totally shocked that you'd waste your precious breath on me, such a lowlife compared to your awesomeness. "What?"

"I asked you if you liked the song. In orchestra."

"Oh. Well, it was pretty. Not my usual soundtrack," I sighed. "Different, but nice."

"You were practically drooling. For a moment I thought you had your eyes on Dunkin."

I frowned. "Who's Dunkin?"

"Ugh," she said, and rolled her eyes. "Good God, you're too ignorant to even have a conversation with. Forget I tried."

"Happily," I replied dryly. I was relieved when I dropped her off, but sad, because the orchestra had stopped playing to listen to Mrs. May rant.

Lunch was next, though, and I happily stuffed my face with tacos. The meat was questionable – tofu? Soy? – but good. Hunter was at the high school and Brook in the elementary, so I didn't see them at all during my day, but I was okay with that. I sat with Kayla and/or my friend Brad when I felt like it. Or sat alone. Or they came to me. We liked to chat about the most random things. Peanut butter. Nuclear bombs. Kayla's latest read. Brad's latest action movie.

Social studies was sixth. We were going to do autobiographies on famous people of the past. Their contributions to the society, the world they lived in, the whole nine yards. Or, in my race's slang, 'the whole twelve gods.'

Well, sort of my race.

"Bree? Do you have someone in mind?" Mr. Set asked.

I smirked at my desk and looked at the board. This, at least, I could handle. "Julius Caesar."

"Ooooh, I love him," Mr. Set approved, ignoring the resulting giggles throughout the room. "Natalie?"

"Alexander the Great," she said triumphantly, shooting me a glance. I rolled my eyes and looked away. Forget the one-ups – Julius Caesar had to be _assassinated _in a great case of irony and stupidity and a lot of bloody knives and an epic betrayal. Alexander just got sick. Most boring story ever.

Health class I tried to ignore. I was not about to start tobacco or alcohol or whatever drug they discussed today. And I had no wish to study the human body systems.

Home economics was eighth. I managed not to set the microwave on fire. I pat myself on the back for that one.

Last, ninth period, was English. We learned about poetry. Here's what I came up with;

_Paper is white._

_Words are black._

_Little letters happy to stab you in the back._

_They sit there and make your head explode and eyes burn and like to jump around the page like a bunch of hyperactive frogs with little thorn-like claws made to claw your eyes out cell by little freaking cell and all the while deny you their meaning like the true little sadists they are. The end._

The teacher didn't like it much, but I was very proud. I got my point across and managed to make it sound nice. It even rhymed once. Besides, it's not like I didn't try.

Okay. Maybe I could've put more effort into it. But honestly, I felt I had better things to do than memorize Robert Snow's work.

After school, Brook caught a bus to my campus, and Hunter walked. We met at the middle school because it was the closest to home. Oh, we rode the bus here, but preferred to spend time together on the walk to the house. Even in the cold days of late-October when the snow was two inches thick.

Well, today, it was six. The snowstorm last night had been very early in the season, and none too gentle. Luckily, this small city was used to dealing with such things. Living on the edge of Lake Ontario left you no choice.

"Who's that chick?" Hunter asked, jerking her head towards Natalie, who was still standing on the school's steps with her violin. Sorry – _viola._

"That Natalie girl I told you about," I sighed. "She tried to have an honest conversation with me today."

"Not as bad as you thought she was?" Brook asked, raising an eyebrow and shifting her small white backpack. Me, now, I could never keep something that color unstained.

"I thought, maybe, since I'm apparently worthy to speak _to _rather than just _about._ But my hopes were quickly and utterly dashed," I said, waving my hand for a dramatic effect. Brook giggled and Hunter rolled her eyes, ruffling my hair.

I ducked and glared mischievously at her, grinning.

Before we could say another word, a growl stopped us in our tracks. A loud, menacing growl, so deep the pavement vibrated beneath our feet. I glanced around, noting the lack of cars on this street, and the small cluster of trees we stood next to.

We stood back-to-back, an instinct, well prepared for this. My previous year of school, the one with the vibrant and action-filled classes, and the lessons I took with Nico now, were all about this.

The growl came again, and a pair of massive red eyes opened. They were the size of car headlights, and similarly spaced. I squinted. There, in the shadows – a massive dog, the size of a minivan, fur black as night and teeth long as Granny's biggest kitchen knife.

"Anyone see any others?" Brook whispered. She had a bow in her hands. A real bow, crafted out of wood and painted with silver flecks. A gleaming arrow was drawn in it and aimed at the hellhound.

"…No," Hunter whispered as the dog took a tentative step forward, sniffing at us. "Go ahead and shoot."

Brook released the string. The dog yelped and melted into shadows and fur and a sticky golden dust. It stirred in the wind, not really staying still, swirling like sad forgotten papers.

We disbanded, sheathed our weapons, and headed for home once more. Meeting demons was normal for us. Oh, it was nowhere near the dancing sort of fight we'd been taught, but a fight nonetheless and all the more manageable the longer I trained with Nico. As confusing as he was, I'll admit, I had gained from a few of his teachings.

Small monsters were easy to deal with now.

We strode down the icy sidewalks like we owned the town, humming to songs, laughing. No one mentioned Ethan. The Second Titan War was always carefully handled.

We stopped, at last, on our snow-covered parking lot. The old house creaked two stories up, looking as if it were leaning, but I knew by now it was perfectly sound. Despite how cramped it was, I was beginning to become fond of the place…

Another growl rippled through the air. This one was not a hellhound. I froze, shocked, as I felt it pound against my chest like thrown potatoes. The house rattled dangerously, windows clattering, wood shrieking. The snow shifted and tumbled on the driveway, and I could hear the pebbles chattering beneath. I took a shaking step to steady myself.

When it died down, I turned, staring with wide eyes at Hunter. She shook her head and shrugged; she could see nothing. Anonymous was drawn in her hands. I quickly drew Întuneric and turned to Brook, heart still pounding, to make sure she was alright.

Of course Brook was. She was smarter than the rest of us.

She had gone stiff, bow forgotten at her side, breath caught in her throat. Wide silver eyes were focused in the direction Hunter and I had both neglected.

Up.

I lifted my head, taking measured breaths, searching. At first I could not see it. It was dark green, blended in with the pine needles of the tree next door. I was also looking for something small; another hellhound, a van-sized scorpion, or maybe a cocky northern Cyclops. Nothing out of the usual. After all, we fought demons every day.

But my eyes eventually recognized a foreign shape. The thing was bigger than the tree, coiled around it, giant claws raking giant tears in the wood. It stood out against the snow, now that I looked. Giant yellow fangs the size of our front door grinned at me from high above.

It hissed, a happy sound, and a pink forked tongue darted in and out of its mouth. Scales glistened in the dull winter sun. And its head… Its head alone, the biggest snake head I'd ever seen, larger than a semi-truck… Odd, it sort of resembled Kampe… A full-grown drakon, waiting for us, climbing down from its leaning perch as we arrived.

No. Even for us, this was not normal.

oOo

**Nyx: Yeah, I know, nothing TOO exciting here…**

**Nic: But…**

**Nyx: I will be going on a vacation next week, so every update day this week, I will post two chapters! Yay! I have today's second one two pages from being finished, but I want to go back and fix it, because what I have shouldn't take eight pages as it does. It will be up later today.**

**Nic: Anybody else notice that on Son of Sobek's cover, Percy looks a LOT like his movie actor?**

**Nyx: That he does.**

**Nic: Anyway, to all our readers out there…**

**Nyx: Please review! I check my story stats, and I know you are there, but you stay silent! Please tell us what you think. Criticism, praise, doubt, hate, total Nico fangirl love, whatever you may have to say, please say it. You guys are killing me.**

**Nic: Free virtual bucket of stroganoff to those who review!**

**Nyx: I'll give you one of my virtual Altoid cans, too…**

**Nic: You know what? I'm kind of relieved to hear you say that.**


	5. The Canary in the Coal Mine

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan owns PJatO and HoO, not us, if you have not noticed. Or, you know, you don't know how to read his name at the bottom. Or how to read this.**

…**Wait a second…**

oOo

"By the gods…" Hunter breathed, raising her scythe. She held the extra blade out, like a long spear, towards the demon.

I saw its head lift and tore my gaze aside, not will to look it in the eyes. A low, dry, rumbling hiss echoed off the crammed houses like the call of a tortured ghost. A giant, snake-like tail swooped down into my view. I swallowed thickly. The great green arc reached across the parking lot and over the house and across the street. I could hear the massive bones creak, as if they'd been crimped and stiff for many years.

The ground bucked and trembled as a giant paw landed in the snowy parking lot, claws glistening in the weak winter sun. A stubby, baggy-skinned, crooked-clawed lizard leg. It could've crushed Granny's car, easily. It was connected to a squat, chubby, toad-like body. Well, save for the green and brown scales. Four lizard legs, all way too short, like a misbalanced table. A great long neck, grotesque coming from that table, stretched nearly as tall as the tree, topped with the arrow-shaped head of a python. Great, yellow, serrated teeth smiled sickeningly at us. Two fangs in the front dominated its grin.

From its shoulders, sad little misused and misplaced things, were wings. Maybe if Hunter and I lay sprawled out next to one another, we'd be their size. Tiny little things that looked totally unable to support the monster. I had never in my life seen a drakon with wings.

Yet a drakon, this clearly was. It was too big and too old to be a dragon.

And the whole thing was covered in a thick, goopy green slime. It glistened like a thick coat of gel-like paint over the scales, catching the light and glinting evilly. The green light from its glowing eyes shone on the slime covering its face.

I turned my gaze to its neck, depending on it to tell the position of the head. It swerved to one side, then the next, as it climbed down the tree with grace beyond its shape and size. It slithered along the ground and lifted only once it'd bumped into the porch stairs.

"Guys, listen to me," Hunter breathed, wide golden eyes locked on the drakon. "Go across the street very, very slowly. There's no room to fight this thing unless we let it destroy stuff – be careful, because it'll crush the abandoned bar. Watch out for debris." Slowly, we took tentative steps back. The demon grunted and took a confused step forward.

"Brook," Hunter whispered. "I'll distract it. I want you to shoot out the eyes so it doesn't paralyze us. Bree, you hide and wait until either the eyes are gone or one of us calls for help. Then I want you to unleash all Tartarus on it. Understood?"

"Understood," I said, and began to walk faster.

"No!" Brook gasped. "Slow-"

There is no word for the sound. Nor letters. Crash, bang, rumble – none. Slam, maybe, is the closest, but it doesn't begin to cover it.

A giant green head smashed into the pavement between us, hard enough to knock me off my feet and onto the shaking asphalt. Chunks of broken road shot into the air, or crumbled around the mass of forest scales, like a giant, rippled sheet. The creature growled and raised its head, dirt and rock falling from its teeth –

"SPLIT UP!" Hunter barked, and I ran.

The loud roar of the drakon shook the ground I was on, but I didn't bother. Nor did I stumble. I leapt over the wreckage and bolted for the shadow of the lamppost nearby. The shadow flexed and bent as I neared, calling, a gentle conscious brushing against my own. Whispers, half-remembered things, a cold world. I made a flying leap as the drakon shook the ground again – this time with another step – and grabbed the icy pole, spinning around, and planted my feet on its base. Its shadow ran over me like a long and flexible strip of ice. I breathed, once, twice, flexing my fingers and feeling the way it bent at my will.

The ground shook dangerously as the drakon struck again. A terrifying crashing noise erupted from the abandoned bar – where its head was buried – and giant splinters of wood erupted into the sky. Behind it, from the street, golden whips of magic cracked against its neck.

The drakon roared and its arched neck twisted, wrenching its head through the building. A horrible tearing sound went off, like the earth itself being ripped open, as it burst its way from the building. It hissed angrily at Hunter.

As it turned, unsteady with such a tight angle, its back half rammed into what remained of the old building. It creaked and groaned and at last gave under the demon's weight, crashing down like a feeble house of cards, forcing me to cover my ears.

The drakon's tail soared overhead, knocking the chimney off one of the other buildings. A pedestrian screamed from somewhere.

"COME AND GET ME, LITTLE SALAMANDER!" Hunter screeched, and shot around like a large golden bullet. Long coils of sun-colored magic cracked across the monster's back.

I tensed and growled. The sound echoed in the shadows, a rumbling on a deeper level and in a new dimension. Brook was aiming for the eyes, which she could not look at; yet I had never known her to take so long for a shot…

…There. A silver flicker went off from across the street, next to the tree the drakon had perched on – Brook must've found shelter there – and disappeared against the sky. A second later, the drakon's giant legs cringed, and an ear-splitting screech split the air.

"One down!" Hunter yelled. The giant reptile screamed and fired its head into the ground again, further ripping the asphalt.

My cousin seemed to appear out of thin air beside me, her golden irises glowing. Little sparks danced around her fingers. Her face was twisted in a violent scowl. Then her lips parted, showing glimmering teeth, and she began to chant to a harsh beat and in an ancient language.

Before I knew what was going on, the demon began to thrash wildly, slipping and sliding on debris. I cursed and dodged a piece sent flying our way. The ground shook and jolted constantly as the monster's legs spun, finding no traction, cutting into the trash and dirt and concrete. The long tail lifted high in the air and lurched back and forth like a dying snake. The neck coiled and snapped out straight again, bunched and unwound, tugging as hard as it could.

I risked a glance up at it. The one I could see – the left eye, or really where it should have been – was dug out, a gaping hole in the giant head. The head hovered above our parking lot all the way across the street, and despite the monster's efforts refused to budge.

Beside me, Hunter broke her chant, crying out in pain as the demon thrashed its neck once more.

_It's trying to pull free. She's got its head locked!_

"TAKE THE SHOT!" I yelled, waiting for Brook's arrows. Too late, I saw them – sailing past the head, thumping into the snow. She had a higher target now, and the angle was not working for her.

Before she could take another shot, the head flickered, not moving but sudden reappearing in a new place just feet to the side. The image was half-transparent and still frozen. Then it jumped again, back the other way, head cocked at a new angle and jaws just parted.

"SHOOT!" I screamed, feeling like there were pins poking every inch of my skin. I didn't know what to do. Wait for her to take the shot? Wouldn't that work better? Or did she not have that long? The last thing I wanted was for someone to die today…

A broken, jagged, halting, furious roar staggered through the air in random bursts. The head flickered and jumped again.

"I can't hold it," Hunter groaned through gritted teeth.

At that moment, the drakon's scream became unbroken, a clear chain of fury ripping through the sky. I didn't wait any longer.

I ran forward, plunging myself into the shadows, Întuneric alive and humming in my hands, and screamed. The world had turned to shades of deep grays and blacks, lit by candles. The giant red demon essence loomed above me. I charged at it and ran Întuneric through the flames, throwing the twisting shadows through the blade, and then wrenched it free before retreating. Somewhere far in the distance, the drakon yelled angrily. I smirked and fired at it, raced around for a new angle, fired again.

The liquid ice of the shadows on my tongue and their angry buzz in my mind. A colossal force crashed through me, pushing to my mind. I shoved the majority of the shadows away and kept only what I needed, feeling them twist around me like happy snakes.

I smiled, showing them my ambition. My wish for the drakon's blood to be spilled. My hate for demons, after living with them for a year, after living in fear of becoming one. My throat felt dry, my hands shook, and I was ready to hear this thing's death rattle. I craved it.

The snakes saw it, they knew what I wanted; they lunged, biting with everything they had.

I fired three times more and left my Shadow Form behind, letting light explode back into the world, reawakening my five human senses. The drakon's roar burst into existence like a bomb going off. I stood in the street, well away from where I'd last shot from, on the other side of the bar. The drakon was looking the other way.

I yelled and charged, skidding to a halt behind its rear leg, and jabbed Întuneric through the goo and up beneath the scales. It took two tries, but eventually I felt the resistance of flesh on my blade. The beast yelled as the leg buckled.

Întuneric ripped free and I moved, running out of the drakon's view. Golden whips stole its attention again.

The earth shook as it turned again and its tail whooshed by overhead, causing wind. I closed my eyes and breathed, focusing, feeling energies pent up and reaching out, a sharp twist in my gut-

A great spur of Stygian iron erupted from the ground and shoved past the debris with a deafening snarl. Its sharp tip shot up into the drakon's foot so hard its leg was twisted in an odd way as the foot rose. Green monster blood oozed down the black rock. The drakon screamed and its head flashed forward, teeth, digging into the Stygian iron, but that just seemed to hurt it more.

I smirked and called another. To my shock, I felt resistance.

Desperation boiled inside me. This was no time for any sort of faltering. I yelled again, and this time it worked – a larger slab appeared and rammed into the monster's underside, making it buck and yell and thrash. A giant tail slammed into the ground next to me. The earth shook so bad I was knocked off my feet. Debris went flying my way, and I rolled desperately to escape.

The crack of another golden whip was followed by Hunter's cheer. The thing growled angrily.

I grit my teeth and raised my head, blasting it with shadows again. I hit it so hard, the head was snapped to one side. Moments later another scream launched into the air, and it turned, all fangs and scales as it rushed towards me.

Frantically, I scrambled back, slipping on the debris. The head crashed into the ground before me and bits of wood went flying. Slowly, the giant head moved, a wall of goo and scales rising from the ground-

-Green.

The eye was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. It was the only thing I saw. A glorious jade, dark on the edges, shot through with bright neon around the slender, vertical, midnight pupil. I saw so many things in that eye. Old, ancient tales, a long-forgotten world, bloody meals and victorious battles and beings, things, dimensions I had never heard of, words dancing among the stars and meanings shining like gold.

Yet it was cold. Cold and uncaring. I was the next bloody meal. I was puny, I was weak; I was food. And it ate food. No one challenged the drakon. Fear tore through me like a savage bullet. I stood no chance against this thing, this giant snake. Nobody survived this thing. Nobody would every survive the wrath of-

-An_ ugly_ green.

Green and black erupted across my vision. The connection was broken and things snapped back into place; I could hear my name being called, feel my body again, taste the dry paste in my mouth. The demon screeched and lifted its mighty head against the clouds. Green, boiling monster blood was splattered across the ground. A torn piece of slippery green flesh – the remnants of that majestic eye – lay strewn across a pile of broken bricks.

I gasped, sucking in sweet air, shocked at how close I'd come to death. Oh, I'd been closer. And I'd seen something of the sort before. Something so beautiful, so untruthful, so deadly. So bloody. So damn sadistic.

Quickly, I scrambled to my feet and ran, dodging the arcing tail and firing shadows. Among the drakon's feet I saw a dash of silver fur – Moon, Brook's small wolf. Golden magic was glowing like crazy now, all over the place. I tossed Întuneric into the air and it landed in my hands as a long, crooked dagger.

I jabbed the knife into its other hind leg. My fingers brushed the goo coating the serpent. To my shock, it began to burn, sizzle and crack and seethe like acid.

I screamed and yanked my knife back, cradling my hand. I shook the poison off and growled, looking for another way to attack.

Before I found one, a dark shadow darted across the space before me. Small and fast and fluid as a sprinting cat. It swooped around the ruins and seemed to float across the ground, firing sizzling black shadows at the back of the drakon's head. A black sword glinted in the demon's shadow.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

More shadows erupted from not far off. I didn't question it; instead I found my place in this dance and played my part. Shadows exploded off the demon's shoulders, next to the left wing. Golden magic spun and snapped like a thunderstorm. Nearby, I saw a tan cougar yowling, adding as much confusing noise as it could. The silver wolf at its side howled like no tomorrow.

A terrifying growl rumbled across the battlefield, rumbling in my chest like an earthquake. Two more golden whips crashed into the demon's blind head. One last blast of shadows – a furious, deadly splice that wasn't my own – cut into its shoulders at just the right angle, beneath the titanium scales. Green blood began to dip over its broad back.

The demon gave one last pained cry and began to flap its wings. They moved so fast you couldn't see them, like a hummingbird's wings, and buzzed like angry bees. I shot at the thing as, amazingly, it began to lift off the ground. It snapped at the ground again but ripped its head free, turned away, and sailed off into the sky. It seemed to leave a huge, empty space on the lot. Of course, the old bar had stood here before, but still. The world seemed to fade away to stillness as the monster disappeared into the clouds.

I stared after it, breathing hard. The memory of its jade, lying eye rocked me to my core. I waited for it to turn back and attack once more, but it didn't, leaving the eerie wind to echo its explosive cries.

"Head count!" I heard Hunter call. I forced my legs to move and sat up – I'd fallen at the force the thing used to lift off – with a grunt of effort. My hand was still burning like crazy. I whined and shook it vigorously, but that didn't help.

"You three are crazy."

I looked up, staring in shock at the slender, pale hand waiting open before me. Then I remembered I'd already seen him there and took it. The silver skull ring dug into my fingers as he hauled me to my feet.

My half-brother stared at me with wide, midnight eyes. "What did you _do?"_

_ We're crazy? What did we do? You're one to talk._

"Nothing," I scowled, spitting plaster dust from my mouth. I had no idea why my deranged, 'traveling' half-brother was here, but for the meantime I was kind of glad. He shrugged and turned from me, back to where the remnants of the drakon eye lay. He bent down and pulled from the debris a heavy-tipped throwing dagger crafted of Stygian iron. And see, that's exactly why I was glad.

We picked our way across the ruins to the street, where Hunter and Brook stood, panting. The young girl's eyes were wide in fear and her bow, still in her hands, trembled. The small – adult, but small – silver wolf at her side whined and thrust its muzzle into her free hand. Its bright yellow eyes were filled with concern.

Hunter scowled at Nico. "You. You're here."

"I'm here," he growled stiffly. "Do you know what that was?"

"No," she said, and turned to find her way across the ruined asphalt. "You?"

"Absolutely no idea. I've never seen a drakon with wings," he spat, and followed her. I hurried to stay on his heels. Brook was herded back by Moon and Hunter.

"I wish we'd killed it," my cousin muttered. "I don't want it coming back."

"Drakons are intelligent. It'll show up again," Brook whispered. Her eyes were still wide in shock.

As soon as our feet hit the snow of our parking lot, the door to the house flew open so fast it banged against the wall and made Nico jump. "Girls!" Granny cried, stumbling out into the snow. "By the gods! Are you alright?!"

"Fine!" Hunter called. I flexed my burned hand anxiously, hissing when that made it worse. The skin had turned bright red, even brown in some places. It felt like someone was holding a branding iron to it.

Nico glanced back at the sound I made and hesitated, black eyes wide. He gazed over at the demolished fence and broken tree, and at the goo that'd pooled in the snow beneath, and made across the parking lot. Curious, I followed. Hunter handed Brook to Granny and jogged over to us.

My half-brother knelt to stare into the green pools. They looked harmless when still.

"What? Do you recognize it?" Hunter asked.

"The stuff was all over the drakon," I said. "And there was more on its fangs. It kinda flung it everywhere every time it turned around. There's a ton on the neighbor's house."

Hunter snickered. "Hash tag; worst leak _ever."_

_"Des Immortales,"_ Nico breathed, reaching one tentative hand forward. His fingers hovered inches above the poison.

"…What?" I asked, worried now. Nico cursed often, and spoke Greek just as much, but his tone wasn't that reassuring.

He reached into his pocket and drew from some pocket an empty vial. His fingers swooped down above the poison so that it gathered in the vial without touching his skin. "I think I recognize this. I don't know what that thing was, but I know what-"

"Bree! Nico! Hunter! Come inside now!" Granny yelled, making us all jump. Nico corked the vial and we sprinted for the door, sliding on the six inches of snow. She ushered us into the living room, locked the door behind us, and told Teddy and Ozzy (her Yorkshire terrier and Chihuahua) to quit barking. She rummaged through the cabinets until she emerged with a First-Aid Kit.

By then, I was already sitting on the couch, and Brook had begun examining my fingers. Her hands still shook, but she was calmer now. My heart twisted at the sight. I hated seeing her so scared here. I know we were new, but this was supposed to be our home; she shouldn't be scared of it.

Granny set the kit down beside her, knowing Brook could use it easily. "Do you need anything?"

She was long used to dealing with demigod children by now.

"We'll be fine," Brook said, eyes focused on my burned fingers. "I have three books in my room, though, full of monsters; if you could get those, that'd be great."

"On it," Granny said, and headed for the stairs. Sylvester, her large green-eyed black cat, dodged her feet and yowled with annoyance. When he saw Nico and I, he hissed and hid beneath the chair. I stifled a laugh – the cat had this thick fur around his neck, like a sad and small lion's mane. I was fond of that cat, even though it hated me.

"I'll go get my own books," Hunter decided, and followed Granny up the stairs.

Brook and I blanched. "You have _books?"_

"Yes. They were my father's. He kept catalogs of every breed of monster he knew of." She continued up the stairs without another word.

Brook and I exchanged a glance. She hadn't said anything about keeping her father's belongings before.

Then she shook her hand and turned to my fingers again. "Nico, did you say you knew what this was?" she asked.

Nico strode over to us and stared at my hand. "I don't know what it _is._ I know what people use it _for."_

"It doesn't seem to be doing much damage, and it didn't get into the bloodstream…" Brook told me absently, using a free hand to fumble for bandages. Her fingers were still glowing green from whatever spell she'd used. My hand still hurt, though. "What do people use it for?"

Nico drew the vial containing the poison and held it between us, letting us look. It was a blurry, thick, goopy green slop. He shook it to demonstrate its consistency. "As I said, I have no idea what it is, or what monster it comes from. It didn't do much to your hand, thank the gods, but if you locked this vial for, say, two thousand years in the darkest places of Tartarus, you'd get Elder Python Venom."

My gaze turned to his solemn eyes, thoughts flying. I knew that name. Ethan had taught it, but I couldn't remember…

Brook did, though. She sucked in a breath. "You're kidding."

"No. The most toxic thing on earth, crafted in the Underworld; I think I know it when I see it."

"But how can you be sure?" I asked, squirming now under his gaze. He had turned his cold, stone-like eyes on me. "I mean, if you leave it to age for two thousand years, in a pit no one's survived? How do you know that's what it looks like to start?"

He scowled at the distance, at something I couldn't see. "I've seen unfinished vials be extracted to check on their progress. The final product is still slippery and green, but it's much thinner and flows like water. It'll eat anything it touches."

I swallowed thickly and stared at my hand. "…And no one knows where the original poison comes from?"

"Well, we now know it comes from a drakon," he snorted. He slipped the vial into his jacket and sat on the arm of the couch. His legs swung back and forth, as if he were a little bored child.

"A drakon," I muttered, rolling my eyes. Brook finished wrapping a bandage around my hand. She smiled at me and patted my tied fingers reassuringly. I was glad, once more, that Ethan had taught me to use my left hand as I used my right.

Ethan. I cast a glance to my right and looked away again. Nobody stood there, of course; Ethan was long gone, and even Nico knew not to stand in his place.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs announced Hunter. She was carrying maybe seven books, each one as thick as Întuneric was wide. I gasped at the bricks of pages. "Any news?" she asked as she walked down the steps without hesitated, despite her load.

"The venom from the drakon can be turned into Elder Python Venom," Brook said, packing the First-Aid Kid up again. "Nico said it takes thousands of years and the darkest places of Tartarus, but it's the same stuff."

"Ah. Poison from the Pit. Wonderful," she said, and dropped the books in the middle of the floor. "These books were down there, too. Dad kept track of every monster he saw during his time, and every monster created. It should be somewhere in here."

"Good. I'm sure Kronos knew something," Nico said, and tossed the poison vial at her.

She caught it easily and set it down before her, so she could compare the books' descriptions to it. "Speaking of things that are here, what are you doing at our lovely home way up here in the snowiest crannies of New York State?"

Nico grimaced at her emphasis on snow. "Well, I ain't here for vacation. I came to train with Bree."

I looked up at him, a little shocked. "I thought you were traveling this week."

"Well, it was decided this was more important," he said, keeping his gaze locked on the window and away from me. "And don't think I'll take it easy on you because of your hand." He stood and walked through the kitchen towards the door, waving for me to follow.

I sighed and got to my feet, ignoring Granny's warnings to be careful. My tongue burned with the question. _You've traveled before and ignored our training. What's made me so important now? What are you hiding from me?_

My stomach churned. The sudden change of plans and appearance of a dangerous, ominous drakon at the same time did not seem like a good thing to me. As I followed my half-brother back out into the poison-covered snow, I wondered just what had happened.

Because these changes didn't only suggested something bad. It suggested something huge. And I was in no mood to lose my new home so quickly.

oOo

**Nyx: Well, THAT took forever. You must forgive my early-summer laziness. I am taking steps to start getting up early again and keep my mind focused. I can adjust to situations pretty fast, so hopefully it won't take long.**

**Nic: Yay, some action, finally! And a mystery! Can't wait to see what you guys think of it.**

**Nyx: You know, if you bother to push that cold and lonely little review button down there. Please do. It's experiencing very low self-esteem levels. You people have been very mean to it lately.**

**Nic: Okay, so the next chapter will come on Saturday, as planned, as well as the bonus chapter. The poll is still waiting for some nice new votes to break its current tie. When that tie is broken, we will take the poll down and release the results in the next chapter, as well as put the next one up. **

**Nyx: That one will be on HoH's cover, as promised. *starts eating banana***

**Nic: Until Saturday, people! *steals banana and eats it instead***

**Nyx: *just grabs an Altoids can***

11


	6. Kindling

**DISCLAIMER: Let us tell you a secret; Rick Riordan doesn't own PJatO or HoH. We do. He just pays us money to have his name written on the cover. **

**Psych. **

oOo

The excited fizz and crackle in the air between us died out with one last little sliver of shadow. Then it was gone, leaving the air to be filled with the emptiness to be filled with the chiming of birds again.

I panted and glanced next door, at the neighbors' last tree. Birds of all sorts bounced around on its branches, little flashes of color, chattering and chirping as they debated on living arrangements for the broken tree's refugees. A calm but energized, organized debate; it all sounded like one neat, complex song with many parts, and not the angry war of sirens a fight would have been. It had not taken long for this debate to ensue once the drakon left, and it did not stop even when Nico and I used magic. They knew the real threat had passed and was long gone.

We paused, still breathing hard, listening to them, and fearing their silence. But, luckily, they kept going and promised no approach of danger.

I tore my gaze from the songbirds and stared at Nico. "Well? Anything that time?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Ugh. This is so difficult."

A groan slid past my throat and I slid, cross-legged, into the snow. I didn't mind the cold. I was sweating. "If me firing these shadows doesn't help you, then why am I doing it? You haven't even told me what you're doing, anyway. At least inform me on the point of this."

Nico, who had also been firing shadows, took his seat in front of me and put his head in his hands. "It's… complicated."

"Well, I'm the one who inherited the shadow realm. Let me simplify it."

"That's just it, though. Nobody has inherited the shadow realm before. Darkness belonged to Erebos before he faded. And even then, it was so closely tied to ghosts… Do you know what shadows really are, Bree?"

I shifted nervously. "Well, I know they're much more than the absence of light."

"Exactly. Do you know what that something more is?"

"…Well, no, not really."

This should've been a time of relative relaxation. There were many things a teenage boy could do to annoy me; act stuck-up, pretend I'm not worth him or his time, actually _think _I'm not worth him or his time, hit on me like he has no respect for either of us, ignore me, act like he knew everything, ask too many questions… The list goes on and on.

Nico didn't do any of those things. I wasn't even sure if he was thirteen yet. He hated me, yes, for a reason I could not name; and though I hated prejudice, I didn't think Nico was the kind of person to have hate spring from that. Even lost in his contempt, he treated me as an equal. As time had gone on, he had moved from not speaking at all to speaking regularly, admittedly only on a few subjects but still speaking. And when we were alone, just himself and a person he was growing familiar with and an emotion he knew so well, was he at his most comfortable. Me – I could stand his company like this.

Though not today. No, today, we – I'm sorry, _he,_ for it was his idea – to confuse ourselves with shadows.

He sighed and lifted his head to the sky, feeling the cool breeze. I frowned. It was coming from the lake – we'd have more snow tonight. "I don't know much, but I think I know more than you do."

"Then spill," I said, leaning back myself. The breeze did feel nice.

"Well, don't take anything I say for truth, because I'm trying to teach you what I've only guessed at myself. But the Ancient Egyptians believed that shadows were actually a part of one's soul."

I frowned. "I don't think flinging soul fragments at a drakon will scare it off."

"No, not a person's literal shadow. But that's what they called this fragment of the soul – _Shadow._ I guess the best word for it nowadays is 'legacy.' You know, the shadow they cast across the timeline. The effects they leave behind after they die. What they did with their life."

"…Oh."

I think I just mentioned how I don't like prejudice and stereotypes. It had never occurred to me that Nico, even dressed as he was, could say something so deep. He'd said such things before, but he managed to surprise me each time it happened.

And to think. Shadows, really fragments of something much more. It seemed possible. Very possible, actually – they were laced so thickly with ambition, I could easily imagine Nico's prediction being true. Oh, the shadows, they tasted of so many things. Of wonder, of hate, of cold indifference, of mystery, of thrills…

I opened my eyes to glance at my own shadow, thrown across the sparkling snow. My magic had always seemed so strange to me; not alive but not inanimate, never dead, never non-living. Something in the middle. But if shadows were part of souls, the way Nico said, did that mean my own shadow was alive…?

"…Wait. We deal with Greek and Roman mythology, not Egyptian."

"True. But do you know how many gods and goddesses we adopted from the Egyptians?" he asked. Wonder filled his tone. Not for me – for the magic. For the philosopher's moment. He loved this magic as much as I did. "Not only that, but ghosts feel most comfortable in shadows. It may simply be that light hurts their raw senses. But there's so much correlation between shadows and ghosts that there _has _to be a strong underlying connection. The Egyptians had that one theory about that connection."

I sighed. "Demigods are the link between ancient and new culture, yes?"

"Well, between ancient and new, the gods are as well. That's one thing we share. But yes. Why?"

"The current major religions refer to shadows and darkness as inner demons. 'The Dark Side' in Star Wars – those who have given in to those demons. They're compared to a dark, evil force. Evil hides in the shadows. The bad guys in all the movies wear black. Hate cannot drive out hate; only kindness can. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can. Et cetera."

He frowned and looked at me, utterly confused. "What is Star Fights?"

"Star Wars," I corrected. "Famous movie series."

"Hm. Well, that's another theory, I guess. But if that were true, would you be able to use shadows for good or 'light' things, such as killing demons or saving your friends? And I've seen Elysium – there's no sunlight there."

"Maybe you only see it for what it is when you're dead? Even when you're seeing it through a ghost's memories?"

"You know what? That might be true, but I'm going to ignore it, because it's going to give me a headache."

I sighed and got to my feet. "That's something Kronos used to talk about, anyway. It probably isn't entirely true, the evil dark thing. And I have saved lives with it… Ach, we're getting nowhere with this."

"True," he muttered, and followed. "Though if you don't mind me pointing this out, remember that you aren't the only one who can use shadows. Evil things can use shadows for questionable motives and horrible acts. But the shadows are a tool to them as much as they are to you."

I snorted. "Yeah. Though I could point out that nuclear bombs are tools, too."

He flicked his hand and looked away, dismissing the subject. "True. I'll fill you in if I learn anything new."

And just like that, we moved on to the next thing. Nico could be easy or hard to work with, depending on his mood and the subject. I was grateful that that particular subject had been easy. And even though we'd ended up frustrated and with naught but shaky, questionable ideas… Hey, it'd been an interesting talk.

Nico was, to say the least, interesting.

"Did you ever show me that thing where you change blood temperature?"

When he wasn't trying to be a pain in the butt.

"I told you that if you can't summon a Stygian iron pillar to springboard off of, changing the blood temperature of a living thing is going to be impossible," I sighed. "And that's the third time you've asked today. Why do you need to know so badly all of a sudden?"

"It's merely a question," he said.

"Well, no, I haven't showed you. Because you aren't ready."

"Can you show me anyway?"

I snapped my gaze back to his to glare at him. But he was already staring at me with cold, deep, moving eyes. Something was shifting inside that look that made me nervous. Scared, almost. It felt like I was watching my murderer shift through his stack of weapons, trying to find the best one to use.

Creepy was interesting too, I guess… afterwards, when you're not being scared out of your mind by it.

I grit my teeth and glared back. "No. Not yet. You'll probably end up killing somebody. I nearly killed… I nearly killed Ethan when I first tried." Having to stumble over his name was painful, and rather embarrassing when I was trying to make a stand.

Nico didn't seem to notice, though. "I could try one of the birds."

"And what makes their life less important than mine? You'd be even more likely to kill a small animal. I said_ no, _Nico."

"Then give me a Stygian iron form so I can practice," he said, voice even and calm. It was not Kronos's calm. But it was just as cold.

I glared at him for a moment more, wondering if it was smart to hand the maniac what he wanted, before sighing and shaking my head. "Fine. Stand back."

My eyes closed and I felt my senses reach out, feeling the earth, feeling the shadows. Shadows, so mysterious. That was part of them, actually; I wondered if it was possible to ever understand them entirely. Perhaps I'd always have to work around some piece of them, have to learn to deal with the unknown.

Eventually I found the powers I was looking for and, slowly, raised a thin screen of Stygian iron from the ground. It pushed its way through the dirt with a little difficulty. Once it hit the snow, it was easier. It appeared between the two of us. I could feel it and its design, sort of like echolocation, through my powers over it and the shadow it cast.

I opened my eyes, staring proudly at it. A thin square standing on end with holes poked through it in a familiar pattern. A checkerboard.

I peered through one of the cut-out squares at Nico. "Got that?"

He gawked at the screen. "Um…"

"Focus on the points. The corners of the squares," I suggested, pointing. "Memorize what each point means, the changes in the pattern that occurs, and where the points go. It helps a lot and works better than trying to memorize the whole thing. Why take five hundred notes when three gets the point through?"

He stared for two minutes more at it before saying, "…Alright. I think I got it."

I let the screen sink into the ground, giving us room to sit. We gathered, cross-legged, side-by-side, facing the street. Nico closed his eyes. His lips moved silently and his hands began to rise-

-And, five feet in front of us, a rumbled and flawed rectangle emerged from the snow. Ragged chips and holes went partway through it. Only one went all the way through, and it was more circle-shaped.

Nico scowled and opened his eyes. "Not even close."

"I bet you'd make good Swiss cheese," I said helpfully as he dismissed the rock.

"Whatever," he muttered, and started over. "Anyway, did you find anything in your sword?"

Oh, crud. This again. "I told you; no."

"Does that mean you didn't try again last night?"

"Er…"

He sighed and let another lop-sided square sink into the snow. "You're making it harder for yourself."

"How, exactly?"

"Did you even go over the ones it recorded from your experiences? Did you review what it recorded of the soldiers you killed?"

The idea made me sick to my stomach. "No! Why would I? I don't have to look at my sword to know exactly what their faces look like. I… I feel guilty enough already. It's a horrible thing to go over…"

He slammed his hand into the snow, sending his latest Swiss cheese slice shooting back into the earth. "You don't understand. It's not that – Oh, crap. What time does your watch say?"

I frowned and looked at him. He had turned his face up to the sky, where the sun had finally appeared from behind the clouds. "Uh… I don't wear a watch. Hunter always has the time."

"Then let's go inside and check. Father'll kill me if I'm late again," he said, and completely abandoning our conversation and his anger, got up and strode into the house.

I sighed and followed him.

"Five-fifty," he read from the clock on the stove. "That's what in LA time?"

"One-fifty, I think. Or is it two-fifty…? Two-fifty."

"Good. I got ten minutes," he mused.

"Well, ain't that just fine and dandy!" Hunter drawled, making us both whirl around. She sat on the living room floor amid mountains of her father's books. The pages looked way too yellow in the room's unnatural light. The air was chilly, yet she'd opened a window to let the cold breeze blow in. The white curtains waved peacefully at us. The vial of drakon poison was still resting before her. "Why don't you help us figure this out?"

Uh-oh. "Trouble?" I guessed. Nico, looking quite uncomfortable with the extra two people in the room, shuffled nervously and kept silent.

"Tons," Brook sighed. Moon licked her cheek reassuringly. "We've been through every book, using Hunter's time-warp."

"_Three times,"_ Hunter amended, raising an eyebrow at us. "And it's nowhere in any of these books."

Now Nico looked concerned. He stalked forward – he had an artist's hands and an artist's grace – and stood over the books, looking down at the one she was currently reading. "Are you serious?"

"Ha! Me, not serious? Can you _image _that?" she mocked, giving him a shark's grin.

Something like broken glass turned over in my stomach. I remembered Kronos well – all those memories, all those stories, so much time he'd existed, so much time for all those dangerous emotions to build up and oh so much time to plan. Each move so precise. He was skilled in everything he did. And since he'd made monster records, they had to be perfect. As perfect as he could get them. "…You mean… Your dad didn't know what that was?"

"Nope," she said, popping her lips on the p. "I bet you he has no clue. Else it'd be in here."

A demon not even Kronos had heard of. That wasn't reassuring.

"Why," Nico wondered, "if it had the skill to evade a Titan, would it make itself known to us now?"

Brook sighed. "You're so stupid. Kronos doesn't _miss _monsters. He doesn't _overlook _a drakon. What Hunter means is that this thing is older than the gods – even older than the Titans."

"Which is also weird," Hunter added, "because call me crazy, but the Titan War just repeated itself. If this thing was older than that, it should've reappeared and been killed before the war even started. But it didn't; it's come back now."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, waving my hands. "You mean to tell me we're against something older than the _Titans?"_

"That's what we just said," Hunter sighed calmly.

"And for some reason, it's shown up out of its timeline?"

"Well, that part's not certain, as the monsters don't always re-spawn from Tartarus according to history's big circle cycle. But yes, that's a big possibility," she corrected.

"Something's wrong," Nico murmured, staring down at the books. Carefully guarded horrors flickered in those black eyes. "Something's gone _really _wrong."

The finality of his tone made my insides turn to concrete. My mouth was dry; I couldn't find my tongue in order to speak.

"_Mrrrowl?"_ Sylvester asked us, flicking his ears in annoyance. Moon growled at him, and he promptly ran for refuge upstairs.

Hunter sighed heavily. "Yeah, kitty. We're in for trouble."

oOo

Nico left a house in about the same mood as the castle he was heading to. Hades's palace. Which was a record for us. We hadn't been so down since we'd moved here.

He promised to ask Pluto – or Hades, depending on the god's mood – about the drakon. And Persephone. Demeter, if he dared. She had stayed in the Underworld over the summer to avoid the dangers of the Titan War, and though usually separated from her daughter Persephone through the winter, found that there was nothing keeping her from leaving. So (much to Nico's distaste, apparently), she was still there and perfectly subject to asking. Both her and Hades were children of Kronos – they were our best shot.

Save Aphrodite, of course. She had been created from sea foam when Kronos threw the chopped-up remains of his father into the ocean. She was the oldest Olympian – not older than Kronos, but still our best hope.

We even Iris-Messaged Annabeth Chase and humiliated ourselves by asking for her help. But Dionysus, the god currently in charge of Camp Half-Blood, told us to go do something unpleasant and that we were never going to get access to the demigods under his watch.

"We could look online," I suggested.

Brook sighed. "Monsters track people from the internet. And phones. Which is why we have none in this house."

I had promptly slumped in my seat and stared at my boots. "Oh."

Dinner had been eaten mostly in awkward silence. Granny tried to get a story going by asking us how our late-night pillow fight had gone. Grandpa got excited until we admitted that we hadn't hit one another hard enough to draw blood. He told us to put more effort into it next time and turned back to his hamburger. He was lucky he was blind; else I'm sure Granny's stare would've turned him to stone.

His Seeing Eye Dog, a giant yellow lab named Antonio, spent the day standing protectively over the two smaller canines. Ozzy and Teddy seemed grateful for it. Sylvester hid in beneath his cat bed in the hallway upstairs. Even they knew that something was wrong.

After dinner we excused ourselves to go spend time alone in our rooms. Brook insisted on keeping at least Moon out and with her at all times. The silver wolf stood guard by her door the rest of the night, curling long, sharp fangs on us and growling every time we stepped near. Yellow eyes glinted with mistrust.

"Moon, shut it," Brook would say. "They're your pack, too."

When I went into my room, though, I found a surprise waiting for me.

A black case, solid and covered in cloth, with a lock on the side. There was no mistaking the shape.

Granny had found my mother's violin.

I stared at it in shock for a good two minutes. Something of my mother's. I had something of my mother's.

Then I leapt forward, fingers shaking, to undo the lock.

To this day I have no words to describe that violin. It was beautiful. It rested on red velvet and was strapped in place by Velcro. A hidden compartment held rosin for the bow, which was clipped into place on the underside of the case's top. Wood, shiny wood, polished and stained so dark it was nearly black, shone like proud diamonds even in this low light. Much like a revered sword, just by sitting there, it promised countless stories and many, many years behind it. Untellable things. Doors once opened and doors slammed shut and so many people, now gone, that'd held it before. The strings had been replaced recently, pure silver, long and sturdy nerves running up its length. Even the attachable shoulder rest had an elegant curve not unlike those of the instrument itself.

It took my breath away. Ancient wood, royal wood, something so priceless. Yet so humble. I'd never seen this kind of beauty before. Slowly, my fingers moving on their own, I undid the Velcro and lifted the violin into my hands. It wasn't too heavy or too light. The scroll at the top was so pretty, the light running along it in fascinating patterns, that I spent five minutes just staring at its wonderful spiral shape.

Slowly, with my hand not holding the instrument, I ran my thumb across the strings above the fingerboard. Four perfectly in-tune notes sang out beautifully. Pure notes, pure wholesome sound. My breath caught and I stared, totally captivated, long after the chord faded into the distance.

Then I plucked it again. Oh, it wasn't a chord I knew, but the four notes just fit so wonderfully together.

I recalled Mr. Banks lessons in music that day, the sounds of the orchestra. Such a wonderful song they'd played. And they'd been so _united,_ each with their own part, listening to the others, coming together to make one grand and unopposed performance. I could never work so well with other people, but still, I loved this instrument. At first sound.

Then another song came to mind. The sad, controlling song of minor chords I'd heard in my dream the night before. The one that could drag you under the currents of your laments and bring out every last pain, find each regret, and bring them into focus. That horrible song that'd taken me away and made me cry. The one that sang of Ethan and of my past long lost and a surviving soldier's guilt.

I had always loved music. I'd always seen such a deeper side to it, something to hide in, maybe even embellish in if I was in the mood. Ingenious, music was.

But never had I heard a song so powerful.

And never had I considered legitimately _making _music.

"Do you like it?"

I cried out and jumped, whirling around. Granny stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. It's really old, but I got a new case and replaced the strings, and the little guy at the shop said the bow was fine-"

"No, no!" I said, cutting her off. "No, it's fine! It's more than fine. Thanks… Thank you."

An unbelievably warm light lit in her eyes, not unlike the look I'd gotten from Hestia (goddess of hearth and home) two months ago.

"Glad you like it," she said. "You'd be great at playing." Then she left me to my thoughts.

I looked down at the violin again, suddenly doubtful. Play it? Had the thought seriously just crossed my mind? Me, play this wonderful thing? This instrument that'd once belonged to… To my mother?

I shook my head vigorously. No. That was a crazy, caught-in-the-moment dream. I couldn't even recall the song I'd heard that well. Before I could get distracted again, I put the violin away and closed the case, making sure to lock it. I placed it above the vent so the cold temperatures wouldn't harm it and turned off the light. I then buried myself under the covers and prayed that sleep came fast that night. And that no dangerous drakons would come in the dark.

oOo

**Nyx: Heeeeey people! I'm in a good mood!**

**Nic: Wonderful.**

**Nyx: So yeah I'm sorry if I forgot to say this before, but thanks to all those who reviewed on Rebel's epilogue. I didn't have a chance to say it in Rebels and might have forgotten to note it in Rejects due to the amount of time set between them. So I'm sorry – but know how grateful I am. Many of you who previously have kept quiet spoke up, and most things written were pretty inspiring.**

**Nic: So thank you.**

**Nyx: Ahaha and special thanks to tranduillon for putting my mind to rest last night. ;p I apologize if I ever accidentally call you 'Karode'; I'll try not to but the name has decided to stick with me.**

**Nic: As far as this chapter goes, it's pretty straightforward. Next one's more interesting.**

**Nyx: 'Yall will LOVE the next chapter, I promise. Kol I kinda creeped myself out writing it last night…**

**Nic: You still need to finish it, don't you?**

**Nyx: Yes. Give me a few hours at tops. It'll be up ASAP. Then you can all be creeped out as I was. Misery loves company.**

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***Kol means lol. It's a Hetalia thing.**


	7. Whispers

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan owns PJatO and HoO. We do not. Unfortunately.**

oOo

I saw flickers.

Strange things. Wolves, many wolves, standing over snowy brick ruins. A night sky full of stars, swinging by as if lost in time. I heard the wolves howling and the screaming of wind – perhaps the snowstorm pounding on my window managed to affect my dreams.

I saw mist and a forest and green scales. They all flickered by like a television with bad reception, or static on a radio. Half-remembered things. I saw a street of houses totally unfamiliar to me. One had an address written in Ancient Greek. Then it was gone, flickering and changing, the colors shifting until I saw the image of a pale girl with dark hair in a dress white as snow. A crown of ice sat atop her head. Then she succumbed to the picture of the night sky once more.

Then, slowly, beneath the screams of the wind like a worm creeping beneath a blanket, a voice began to speak.

It was raspy and dry, like it'd spoken too much too quickly and with no rest or water. Or someone who'd just seen too much. I'd feel sorry for them if I didn't swear, by that creepy tone, they had nothing but dark, awful things in mind for me.

The voice whispered, stuttering, tripping over itself, cutting back and skipping like a scratched CD. "_F-forgotten horrors best left untouched – horrors left untouched…"_

As it spoke, crimson began to bleed into the images. The air crackled as the voice came closer, louder…

"_-Too much – Rise from – from minds scarred far too much…"_

Something thick and warm boiled in my throat. I tried to scream but choked on it, on the warm, rusty taste of blood….

"_Beware – shadows – dreamer waits…"_

I tried to run, but I had no body. There was just the scenes, moving too quickly for me to see now, flashing by like snowflakes in a blizzard-

"_Enslaved – peace – Sky's eternal peace shall – eternal peace shall break-"_

-The scenes and the voice, creeping closer, its rancid breath in my face-

_"-Traitor's hand – enslaved by hand – eternal peace-"_

The words become more and more broken, like shattered pieces of glass, or the shattered fragments of a mind-

_"Fate's shadows – to death – death are heroes damned by day…"_

At that moment, searing hot claws grabbed at my throat, the visions vanished, and everything fell absolutely silent.

oOo

"Come on! Come on! Come on, stupid school board! Close it!"

"Is it not closed yet?" I asked, glancing out the kitchen window. The white snow was draped in gentle waves across the lot. The neighbors' tree – which had fallen down after the drakon left – was nearly completely hidden in the white ash.

"No, just a two-hour delay," Brook said, sitting on her knees in the living room floor, still surrounded by Hunter's books. Her eyes were wide and glued to the screen. Moon had taken a seat next to her and was staring at the television in a similar matter, yellow eyes just about ready to pop out of her head, but I don't think she knew what we were looking for.

I took a big bite of my honey bun and closed my eyes, deciding that even if those spare two hours was all we got, I'd enjoy them. My backpack lay forgotten next to the door. Hunter had decided to spend the extra time sleeping on the couch. She looked like she hadn't gotten that much rest the night before; her eyes were sunken in and red, and she was crankier than usual.

Which meant we were all in danger of having our breakfasts drenched in tobacco sauce, but there wasn't much we could do about that. So we let her sleep.

"UGH!" Brook howled as our school rolled by on the news again. "Come _on,_ you thick-headed old hags! SNOW DAY!

"Quiet," Hunter moaned, turning over. "I'm tryin'a sleep."

"I don't care about Rochester!" the brunet continued to scream at the television. "Give me Oswego!"

I expected Hunter to throw something at her, but she just groaned again and hid beneath her pillow.

"Brook, pipe down," I said, and bit into my sugary breakfast again.

Moon yelped excitedly and huddled down on the floor to wait. She wouldn't stop squirming. She looked so much like an anxious toddler that I had to laugh.

"Children, children!" came a scolding voice from the second apartment. Granny appeared in the threshold, hair a wild mess and clothes rumpled like the sea's surface in a monsoon. "What is all the noise?"

"We're working on it," I said apologetically as Moon, unable to contain all that excitement and wolf energy, barked.

"We have a two hour delay," Brook provided, watching the school names for the C towns go by.

Granny perked up at that. "Oh. Would you like me to make breakfast?"

"No thanks," I said, waving my honey bun. Granny, who ate those for breakfast regularly (oh, she could cook when it came to dinner, but wouldn't dare try anything too hard in the mornings), nodded and made her way to the chair next to Hunter. She smiled at the blonde girl's sleeping form. Or, what looked like could be sleeping. She could sleep _through _anything, but not fall asleep during too much noise.

"Come on, come on!" Brook began to chant. Oswego was coming up again. "Snow day! Snow day!"

Granny frowned. "How much snow fell last night?"

"Four feet, and it was right about three in the morning," I provided. "It's more of the time that fell – the snow plows apparently can handle that, but they won't get near finished in time for school."

"Four feet," she echoed, amazed. "In late October. We usually don't get that much until December and keep it well through January. We may break hundred-year-old records."

"Didn't Oswego used to get _tons _of snow every winter?" Brook asked, craning her neck to see both Granny and the screen. "That's why there's a sealed door in the hallway upstairs? The one that just leads to a fifteen-foot drop outside?"

"Yes, and that's exactly why it's sealed," Granny said firmly. "Don't go poking around that thing. And it hasn't been used in ages – it's been many years since Oswego actually got _that _much snow. They quit making houses with those a while ago. Only the old houses have them."

"Come on! Come on!" Brook yelped again. Moon jumped to her feet and let loose a flurry of barks. Hunter shouted something to them about shutting the front door but was drowned out by the wolf.

Then, before I could even read the screen, they both leapt up and shot through the house like untied balloons. Moon howled and Brook screamed, "YES! NO SCHOOL!" They barreled of Antonio as they whirled through the house, leaving the poor dog looking quite bewildered.

"Quiet down! Your grandfather is sleeping!" Granny called after them. She shook her head and chuckled.

My own sad smile crossed my face. I turned to the right, expecting it mimicked, and then looked away.

When Brook and Moon came shooting through the living room again, they were followed by the other fives silver wolves. Moon and another, larger, light silver one with long legs – Star, I think her name was – were now in the lead. The racket they made could've woken the dead.

While I was busy laughing, Hunter grabbed her pillow and threw it as hard as she could. It hit the slowest wolf, the largest one with dark fur and I think the only male, got it in the face. It had such momentum that it slammed him against the wall with a loud banging noise. He growled, shook the pillow off, and continued to follow his new pack.

I swallowed the last of my honey bun and made my way over to Hunter. Sitting on the armrest, I asked, "You feeling okay?"

"Fine," she muttered. "Just a stupid nightmare."

I sighed and looked out towards the window again. Nightmares. They were more than nightmares, when you're a demigod. I knew I had to share my dream with them eventually. But if Hunter'd had one, too, then things were looking even more bleak.

"Well," I said. "Just one more omen of impending doom, right? What's one more?"

"You're going to say that until we find the straw that breaks the burrow's back," she muttered into her last pillow.

"Right. I'm sorry; you know you can't force me to play the optimist. I suck at that."

"You do indeed," she sighed. "Give me four hours and we'll figure out the omens, alright? I need to sleep."

"Okay," I said, and went to find Brook. She was upstairs dancing in the hallway with her wolves. Poor Sylvester was hiding beneath the couch with wide, terrified eyes. He had never seen so many dogs, and none so wild. I chuckled and told them all to quiet down and find something calm to do; it was too early in the morning for a sugar rush.

Brook settled for using wadded-up paper and a rubber band to shoot at a poster of a tiger up on her wall. The wolves gathered around her bed and on her floor, staring intently up at the picture, and wagging their tails excitedly when she made a kill.

Knowing they'd be fine for a little while, I headed back downstairs to find something to do. The cartoon channel served. As I watched, though, my mind wandered. It drifted to the drakon and my dream and the violin locked in its case upstairs. I thought of Natalie and her viola and the song the orchestra had been playing. And the elusive song from my dream.

After discovering the air to my right held no advice, I glanced at Hunter, but thankfully she had fallen asleep. Granny had vanished – probably gone back to bed as well. Since cartoons weren't distraction enough I got out the extra credit homework sheet from English – received after my poem was read – and tortured my brain with little English letters.

But staring at the lines for a poem brought back the voice's words. _Forgotten horrors best left untouched…_ And then what? Something that rhymed…

A new, stunning idea dawned on me. I wasn't sure if I should look up to or fear it. All I knew was that it was strong-

-Interrupting my thoughts, the shadow the table was casting began to churn. It twisted and curled and demanded my attention, writhing, turning into new shapes and showing me something…

I watched as it rose above the floor and moved around in slow circles, growing larger and larger, until the shadows appeared solid. Then they fell away to reveal a head of uncut black hair and cold, unreadable eyes. His jacket was rumpled as if he'd just woken, and his sword hanging crooked; otherwise he looked much like he did every day. In fact, very much like he did every day, for I'd only seen him in like three different shirts. The one he wore now, he'd worn yesterday.

"Nico," I greeted, turning back to my homework. His showing up so often now was beginning to unnerve me. Though no longer only because he was strange. Now I had to worry about some giant flaw in the universe that worried our father and released deadly drakons on the world. "It's a tad early for training, isn't it?"

"Lord Pluto told me you had the school day off," he said, leaning back against the pole. "I'm sorry for showing up in your house uninvited, but I didn't want to waste time."

Lord Pluto. Not that Nico never understood Pluto was his father – it was just that Pluto was so far, so alien from Hades, he had a hard time imagining it.

"He ordered you to come here?"

"Yes. He seemed upset about something."

Now I turned to look at him again, after glancing at Hunter to confirm she was still asleep. We were alone; he'd speak to me here. "Has something happened in the Underworld again?"

Nico shrugged. "Lots of people have been escaping. Could be another one. Or he was upset about the drakon." He turned towards the door and waved for me to follow.

"Okay, one, did he recognize it, and two, we'll have to go out a window. We're snowed in."

He grimaced. "If it's possible for you to get snowed in, then you shouldn't live there. I can't stand snow." He leapt onto the kitchen counter with easy grace and began to fiddle with the window. A sly glance was shot over his shoulder at me. In that glance, I saw the familiar hate that made my stomach churn. "And no, he didn't recognize the drakon. He had no idea."

He slid the window open and frowned. "Think this one's big enough?"

"It is," I said as I watched him crawl through it. There was a loud, disgruntled _oof_ as he landed in the snow beneath.

I slid through and landed on my feet beside him. He scowled and picked himself up from the white frost. "Ugh. This is nuts."

"Speak for yourself," I muttered, opening a hand to help him up.

"Don't touch me," he spat, and got to a wobbly stand on his own. Then he strode off, sinking into the snow with each step, towards the center of the clearing.

I sighed. He wasn't in a good mood today. Which guaranteed a long, hard training session.

oOo

"I told you to focus on the _points,_ not the whole picture."

"I _am!"_ he barked, and shoved the Stygian iron back underground. "It's just not working right!"

I sighed and shoved the tip of my sword into the snow, where it stood on its own. "This whole thing is about _control._ Yelling isn't going to help you."

"I don't lack _control,"_ he muttered, his voice suddenly dropping. "You wouldn't believe how long and how desperately I've mastered that."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"It's lack of power. You can have all the control on your mind that you want; if you don't have hands to hold the pencil, you're never going to draw the picture."

"So… You're saying you lack the ability? On the magic side?"

"The ability to be precise, yes," he said, and rose another slab from the ground. This one resembled a totaled car. "There's the mental side to magic, I understand that, but it's not my problem here."

"Hm," I grunted, not so sure I liked my student correcting us both.

"It's like mayonnaise," he said to himself, and seemed quite happy with that comparison.

I didn't ask him to explain. This was the crazy side of Nico; he made odd connections, weird little segways, that nobody else could follow. I doubted most of those connections actually existed. His oddest connections, he never would explain.

"Yeah, like mayonnaise. Totally."

He let the Stygian iron disappear into the snow again and turned to me. "Alright. I've done my hour of practice. Your turn."

"I already can summon Stygian iron in specific shapes. I don't need to practice."

"I meant your sword. I want you to search it. Right here, right now, where I can watch you."

Oh, hell. I squirmed in the snow and grabbed my sword protectively. "…Why?"

_"So I can memorize the glyphs on it_. To figure out why you can't read its recordings! Why else?"

"There _are _no further recordings. It's just my own."

"Really? You positive on that?"

"Positive," I growled, glaring back at him. Oh, I knew there were more, but he wasn't going to force me into _anything._

"I think you're mistaken," he said.

Mistaken. Not lying.

"And how could that happen?" I muttered.

"Well, you just accused me of lacking mental control and ability, didn't you?"

"I have more power than you do on-"

"I said _mental _ability, not magic. Mental."

"Well… Yeah, I guess I did accuse you."

"Exactly. I'm merely suggesting something similar. You can consciously try to work magic all you want; if your subconscious isn't in on it, you won't get a scrap of work done. That part of your mind can totally destroy your intentional goals. There's a mental side to everything, especially magic. Make sure it's not a disadvantage to you."

"You think it's become a disadvantage?" I asked, trying to remember a time I'd even consciously wanted to find something. There wasn't one.

Yet I'd discovered something, anyway. Hadn't tried to look since.

"Yes, I think that's the problem. You can't find things because some part of your mind is reluctant. I'm going to figure out what it is and break it. Make sense?"

"I don't want you breaking anything _remotely _related to my mind."

For the first time since I'd met him, he smiled. It wasn't a pretty smile. It was a wide, sharp-toothed, unstable, wicked, Cheshire cat smile. Teeth white as bone – paler even than his skin – gleamed in the cloud-shrouded sunlight. Something bloody flickered in his eyes. He didn't speak; just stared and smiled at me.

Rumors of his insanity hadn't been too exaggerated on Mount Othrys.

I did my best to look unfazed. Like the smile didn't set alarms off in my mind. "Well, I'll take that as an apology. Great. I didn't want to look at my sword's records, anyway." I stood and walked to the house, praying he would not follow.

"I could have Phil break it, if you don't want me to!" he called.

I sighed. "Who's Phil?"

"My friend."

"The last three times you mentioned him, you said you'd bring him to meet me."

His tone became confused. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Well, he must've never wanted to come."

I was pretty sure, especially in times like this, that Phil was imaginary. And Phil didn't scare me any less than Nico did. "Well, tell him I said hi! I'm gonna go see if Hunter's up. We have a dream to discuss."

"I'm sure Phil would like to meet you," he said as I strained to open the window. It'd been shut while we trained. And, a quick glance through the glass confirmed, was now locked.

"He could help with your sword problem," Nico said very seriously.

"I'm sure he could," I said, sighing. We'd have to find one unlocked.

Behind me, I heard Nico get up and stumble across the snow to get to me. "You know, the window to Hunter's room is open up there."

I craned my head up to look at Hunter's window. It was, of course, second-story. "Ha! Very funny. Have fun breaking your neck. I'll go find my own window."

"You have a lot of subconscious fears," he muttered, but clambered onto the kitchen window's sill anyway.

My blood ran cold. "Wait – I didn't mean you should actually try-"

"Chill. I got this," he said, and dug his nails into the ice on the house's sliding. With a grunt, he lifted himself off the sill and began to climb.

"You're going to fall," I rasped, my tongue dry. I wasn't so sure I should let him loose while he was in one of his crazy fits. You know, impaired judgment and all.

Nor did I want to watch this.

He ignored me and continued to climb. Don't ask me where he found footholds and handholds. I have absolutely no clue.

"You're going to hurt yourself," I tried. Some part of me said that I should climb up there with him to help if he fell. The rest of me was frozen in place.

The last time I tried, I hadn't saved anyone from falling.

At last, he got his hands onto the windowsill leading to Hunter's room. He swung his leg up and over, as if he were mounting a horse, and disappeared into the room. I held my breath and waited for him to reappear.

"Hey!" he called, and leaned far out over the edge of the sill. He reached out a hand, signaling me. "Your turn!"

Yep, he was nuts.

"No thank you," I said, closing my eyes. No way was I going to even try. "Why don't you just come down here and unlock the kitchen window from the inside?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Oh, sure. That works too." And he disappeared again.

Moments later he appeared through the glass of the kitchen window. He gave me that crazy smile again. Maybe he did that whenever something amused him. Nevertheless, he unlocked the window for me and stepped aside so I could crawl in.

"You," he said smugly, "are absolutely nuts."

Well, give the boy a prize.

Or maybe he was just making his own connections again. Perhaps, in his world, 'nuts' meant something entirely different. Possibly even a good thing.

"Thank you," I said, and closed the window behind me. I shivered. "Geez. Somebody forgot to turn on the heaters in here."

"I guess someone did," a familiar voice said from behind us.

I turned. "Hey, Hunter. Get enough sleep?"

"Enough," she snorted. "Hey, Brook! Get down here!" Then she cast Nico a sideways glance. "Are you two done mountain climbing, or do you want to help sort out visions of the future?"

Nico's Cheshire smile vanished. "What?"

"I had a dream last night. Held images and words. Due to rhymes and syllable patterns, I have reason to suspect it was a prophecy."

"That's what I heard!" I gasped. "Something about forgotten horrors and stuff!"

Nico growled and backed up like a frightened cat. "Prophecies don't come through dreams, guys. They come from the Oracle. Through Apollo and the Oracle. It couldn't have been a prophecy."

She raised an eyebrow. "You got a better idea?"

He bared his teeth at her. "How about not poking around? If it is from the future, or even is a prophecy, you're only going to make things worse by screwing around. Trust me."

She snorted and turned away, striding into the living room to meet Brook coming down the stairs. "Suit yourself. But I intend to figure a few things out. Have fun sitting there in the dark."

Nico made a strange, startled sound. "She's kidding. Tell me she's kidding."

"She isn't," I said. "Seriously, at least we could talk about it. What's so bad about the dream? Surely if we can figure something out, it's not as dangerous?"

I wasn't prepared for the look he gave me now. It was, in fact, startled. Panicked. "No. No, you're wrong. You can't just… And trying to prevent it is worse-"

"Nico, chill. It's alright."

"No, it's not! Listen to me when I talk! You shouldn't do this!"

My jaw hardened. "Don't order me around. We're going to figure out what we've been shown before it kills us first. You can participate or not as you wish. If you'd rather not, then that's fine. Leave."

The cold, horrible hate glazed over his eyes again. The house fell deathly silent. Even Moon didn't dare make a sound.

"Fine," he spat, turning away. The shadows played eagerly with the cuffs of his black jeans. "Ignore me. Don't come crying back when one of you winds up dead."

Something in his eyes screamed of betrayal. That something wrong had been done. Something unforgivable. He didn't give that look to them; only to me, as he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the house eerily silent once more.

Hunter snorted. "It's alright, guys. He's in a bad mood. When he next shows up, we'll probably have figured out the dream and the drakon."

I stared a moment longer at where he'd disappeared from. A cold feeling had settled in my stomach.

Nico could be crazy at times, and very dangerous, wasn't always welcome here, and I would never place trust in him.

But I'd never known him to be wrong.

oOo

**Nyx: Okay, lots of new info in this chapter. Hope I'm not making anything too obvious.**

**Nic: That creeped you out? That first scene?**

**Nyx: Yes, it did, actually. That, and I found a beetle in my room. Big, giant black thing that had a small head and a large abdomen/shell thing. Kind of resembled a semi truck. The cat refused to kill it, and it escaped.**

**Nic: I thought u were only scared of spiders.**

**Nyx: I haven't ever seen this beetle before. It's subject to anything.**

**Nic: Geez. It ought to be subject to a shoe or a flyswatter, too.**

**Nyx: Eh…**

**Nic: ANYWAY, she was right. A lot of important things in this chapter, little details that'll grow as the story continues.**

**Nyx: So what'd you think of what you read so far? Interested? Please review and tell us! All feedback is greatly appreciated!**

**Nic: As the schedule goes, the next update will be on Monday. It will contain its chapter and the extra. Nyx will be on vacation the next week, so there will be no updates, but that's kind of why we're doing double this week. She will be back on the… Uh…**

**Nyx: June 20****th****. So, this Monday, and then skip to June 20****th****. The schedule will pick up there as usual.**

**Nic: 20****th****! I knew that!**

**Nyx: Personally I'm so excited you might get an extra chapter updated somewhere in there. I write when I'm excited.**

**Nic: Clearly.**

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**FUN WRITER'S FACT; Professional editing for a novel costs about one dollar a page. If Rebels were to be published, the editing alone would cost over $500. TLO cost nearly $400. Puts things into perspective, huh?**


	8. Messing with the Bull

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan owns PJatO, not us. Sorry to disappoint.**

oOo

"You heard that, too?"

We all stared at one another, not really shocked by now.

Slowly, I nodded. "…Yeah. Something about shadows and a dreamer. It was kind of broken up."

"I heard a full line," Brook said. "_While in fate's shadows, the dreamer waits."_

"I think I remember the last half of that one," Hunter mused.

We all stared at one another again, trying to figure this out.

"Well," Brook said. "We all have fragments of this prophecy. Let's write down what we remember and try to put it together. It shouldn't be hard; prophecies are poems. They rhyme and have syllable patterns."

Moon barked approvingly.

Hunter shrugged. "Alright. It's worth a shot."

oOo

"Annabeth, please. I need your help."

She sighed and glanced at me. "Nico, I don't know anything about them. I can't offer it to you."

"It's not _about _them! …Well, it is… But it _could _be about anyone. Just hear me out."

She closed her eyes and considered. "…Malcolm?"

"Hm?" I heard her brother ask.

"Leave us for a minute. I'll fill you in on the satyr's reports later."

Malcolm cast me a weary glance through is dirty blonde bangs. "…Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. Her hand was on her temple. "Go."

He sent me a warning glare and stepped out of the cabin, making sure to leave the door cracked open.

Annabeth turned to me again. "Hurry up and tell me, because two campers aren't allowed alone in a cabin, and I already have a headache."

"What'd the satyr report?" I asked, distracted now.

"Something about a drakon. It doesn't matter. What were you trying to say?"

I shook my head and let my gaze land on our surroundings. The Athena cabin was quite cramped; between the beds and scattered armor and dozens of tables, there was little room to move. Three walls were hidden by bookshelves. The fourth was covered by drawings; inventions, battle strategies and plans, random notes. Papers were overflowing everywhere. I think I was standing on some sort of new helmet design. In Annabeth's hands was Daedalus's laptop. I took my gaze off it before memories of his ghost could infiltrate my mind.

"Well?" Annabeth asked.

Where to begin? My thoughts were kind of a panicked whirlwind. Decode a prophecy? Prevent it? Oh, I knew how that was going to end…

"You look scared out of your mind. What is it?" she asked, gentler now.

I shook my head vigorously again to clear it. "Do you think… Is it possible for prophecies to come from other places? Besides the Oracle?"

She frowned. "I didn't think so. Why?"

"All three of them, I think, had similar dreams last night. They think they heard a prophecy."

"…All three of them? I can tell you're lying."

"I might've seen a few strange images last night too, and heard a voice…"

She groaned. "Nico, you could've said something."

"The last time someone tried to prevent a prophecy from occurring, it was Zeus, and decided to blow up-"

"Alright! Alright!" she cut me off. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. But I think you're overreacting. It couldn't have been a prophecy, as it didn't come from Apollo or the Oracle, and honestly there's no harm in hearing the full prophecy itself. It was, after all, sent for a reason."

I scowled. "They were given fragments and half-remembered scenes in a dream. Not the full prophecy."

"I still don't see the harm in piecing it together."

"What if knowing it changes what they do? That'd be bad, especially if it was a fake. If you walked up to them and said 'Go to Tartarus' and made it rhyme, they'd probably do it!"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Calm down, Nico."

"Meddling with the future never ends well! Not seventy-two years ago, not when May Castellan tried to break the Oracle's curse, and certainly not now!"

"And what exactly were you expecting me to do about that?"

I fell silent, suddenly unsure. There wasn't much anybody could do about it.

"Look, you asked me for information; I gave it to you. They probably won't be in trouble just figuring out what it says. Just don't regard it too seriously. And, as usual, be careful. That's all I can tell you," Annabeth said, and stood up from her chair. "If you'll excuse me, Malcolm and I were trying to figure out a satyr's very frightened letter."

"It's a big green drakon with a snake's head and fat lizard body and long tail and these sad little wings," I provided. "Coated in nasty goo that can be turned into Elder Python Venom."

She stopped walking and turned to stare at me. "…And you know this…"

"Because it showed up yesterday at their house."

"And you didn't think to call me?"

"Search your books. It won't be in any of them."

She sighed hoarsely and sat down again, opening the laptop. "Here. Give me a second."

At her indication, I sat on a nearby bunk, and busied myself with studying the many papers about the room. It was a fascinating sight, all in all; cluttered but interesting. Not the material itself, but interesting. Many papers. Lots of research. Lots of work. I didn't really care that centaur blood only affected living things; I was interested and awed by the person who decided to discover it.

Eventually Annabeth mumbled to her laptop about taking too long to start up and began clicking on files. I tried to wait patiently.

You know what, on second thought, this was Annabeth. It might take several hours. Not good, for my schedule or my ADHD.

By the time she spoke again, I had found an old, discarded map of the Underworld – it wasn't that good, really; they missed like five turns in the Styx and set my father's palace too far to the north – and was using Mνήμη to poke holes in it. I was trying to make the chain of holes into shapes; a circle, a square, a triangle. Eventually I tried a pentagon, but found out that they're difficult…

"Nico. I hope that's not my Capture the Flag battle strategies sheet."

I frowned and turned the sheet over. Unlike most papers here, it was labeled in English. But now with it upside-down I recognized the landmarks; that river wasn't the Lethe, it was the creek, and that pile of rocks wasn't really Orpheus's entrance, but Zeus's Fist…

"Nope. Old Underworld map," I said, and since she had spoken without looking at me, hid the map in the pillowcase. Then I got up and looked over her shoulder at the computer.

Her files were all labeled, thank the Gods, in Ancient Greek. She had opened one called 'Reptiles' and scrolled down a couple hundred pages to a section marked 'Drakons'. Slowly, she scrolled through them.

"Is this it?" she asked when we came across the first one with wings.

I shook my head. "Nope."

We kept going until the section ended. Annabeth kept going, though, so that we looked at all the 'Dragon' section as well.

I shook my head when we were done. "Nope. It's not in there. Hades couldn't identify it. Hunter has her father's records and discovered that it's older than the Titans."

"So is the Lydian drakon, and we know of that one… Wait, she kept her father's stuff?"

I scowled. "She kept his _books_."

"You sure she kept nothing else?"

Discussing whether or not Hunter was trustworthy was not why I'd come here. And personally, no, I couldn't confirm that the books were all she had. But I wasn't about to admit that. "Look, do you have every monster in that computer?"

"Every one that Daedalus and I know of."

"Hm." I thought for a moment. "…I can try to consult a few ghosts. The older ones might not remember so well, but it's worth a shot."

"Tell me when you've got it figured out," Annabeth muttered. "Oh, and before you go – once they figure that prophecy out, I'd like to hear it."

I sighed and stood, ready to leave. As if I was going to allow further future-meddling. Not to mention I was already reporting every word from their mouths to my father; I wasn't about to give it all to Annabeth as well.

Not by a long shot.

oOo

"Should we call him?"

I considered. "Rubbing it in seems a little rude. And you can't honestly claim you're asking him for advice; he's made it clear he wouldn't help us with it."

"Who cares what's rude?" Hunter muttered while Brook reminded us, "We don't even know where he is."

Hunter looked at the paper again, studying our prophecy. "Yeah, well, we can try."

"Please don't, Hunter," I said, feeling like there were worms in my stomach. Nico was mad enough. And you don't anger a madman.

Not to mention I'd be the one getting the horns, even though she was the one messing with the bull.

I sighed and admitted I'd have to give Nico credit; he wasn't _totally _insane. Not all the time.

It didn't make me feel any better.

"Maybe we can persuade him to help," she decided in a tone ringing with finality. She marched towards the sink and turned the water on as hot as it would go.

There was little that could stop Hunter once her mind was made up. I was one of those little things, when I had my A-game. "He's not going to change his mind."

"And how do you know?"

"Because I know him better than you do."

"And you're positive he'll stick by an argument?"

"Hunter, how often do you hear him speak? He'd only speak up and argue with any of us if he was absolutely positive on what he thought and where he stood. You're not going to get him to change his mind."

She snorted and fished a drachma from her pocket. "Watch me. While I'm at it, I might even get him to cut his hair."

I rolled my eyes as she tossed the golden coin in the air, testing is weight and waiting for the hot water's mist to gather. "The day that happens, the world will end."

"I didn't mean cut it all _off,_ just a trim," she mused. "Or at least style it. And yeah, make it a little shorter. The way it is now, a couple of guys off the street would look at him from behind and say, 'Oh yeah, I'd give that a shot.' Then, of course, realize he's a dude when he turns around to kill them."

"It isn't that long," I muttered. Partway between his chin and shoulders. Not bad. "But don't even try it."

Hunter smiled at the water vapor gathered now above the sink. Sunlight was filtering in through the kitchen window, lighting it in a brilliant array of colors. "O, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering." And she tossed the coin into the mist.

It disappeared.

"Nico di Angelo, in the… U. S. of A."

Brook and I sighed. Though it was relief for me – no way Iris would answer such a broad request.

But the colors in the mist began to rearrange themselves, shifting and swimming around, changing hue, light bending to suit their needs. A room came into view, lit by several overhead lights; many cluttered tables, a bookshelf in the background, three bunks (that many was all we could see from this angle), a wall full of papers, and before us at the nearest table, a blonde girl and a laptop. Annabeth Chase, I recognized.

The Athena cabin, at Camp Half-Blood.

Nico stood next to Annabeth, and was walking away, as if he'd just decided to leave.

"Hey!" Hunter called. "Zombie boy!"

Nico froze. Annabeth whirled around, looking only slightly surprised. "…Hello?"

Hunter gave her a wicked grin. "Hey there. Anna-bell, is it?"

"Annabeth," she corrected, grey eyes storming. "I assume you are looking for Nico?"

"Yep," Brook sighed. "Unfortunately. I told you this was a bad idea, Hunter."

"What is it?" Nico said curtly. His image was dissolving, because he stood at the edge of it, and the mist was thrown into shadow there.

"We figured out the prophecy," Hunter said, "and thought you should hear it. If nothing else, it might be referring to you at some point."

"I don't want to know my future."

"Don't worry; the prophecy doesn't make it clear. It doesn't even specify you or me or anyone. But you ought to listen to it."

Annabeth glanced from us to Nico. "…Alright…" she said, answering for them both.

Hunter's smile changed to a relieved one. "Great. We're still missing one line, but this is what we have;

"_Forgotten horrors best left untouched,_

_Rise from minds scarred far too much._

_While in fate's shadows, the dreamer waits,_

_Missing line missing line missing line,_

_Enslaved by traitor's hand and blade,_

_To death are heroes damned by day."_

Silence.

Slowly, Nico turned around to look at us. It was impossible to read his eyes through the misty screen.

"Well, that's… Interesting," Annabeth managed.

Nico didn't say a word.

"We did all we could to recall the missing line," Brook said. "We got fragments. Something about eternal peace. Any idea what that means?"

"Death."

We all looked at Nico. He shifted, uncomfortable under so many gazes. "Death. Eternal peace, eternal rest. S'not that hard."

"Well, that's interesting," Hunter said, not really mocking Annabeth but instead finding some self-comforting humor in it.

Brook spoke up then, straightening and deciding to take control. "Anyway, we thought you should know. As far as figuring out what it means…"

Nico and Annabeth exchanged a knowing glance. Something hot pressed against my throat – they knew something.

"I don't think," Annabeth said slowly, "that it'd be wise to submerge yourselves in this."

"Guess who else thinks so," Hunter muttered darkly.

Annabeth scowled at her. "I'm serious, guys. If it is a real prophecy, it didn't come from Apollo. Think about that for a minute. This thing isn't safe."

"Yeah, well, we kinda found a drakon that wasn't exactly from the Olympian time, either," Hunter scowled. "I'm more inclined to trust it."

"You shouldn't. Especially with a missing line. It could totally change the prophecy's meaning. Just leave it," Annabeth said sternly.

"We know the missing line involves death," Hunter muttered.

"That isn't enough," Annabeth said firmly. "Keep it in mind, don't forget it, but don't act or depend on it. I think our best shot is to see if Apollo can shed some light on this. Until then – and it may take a while, because he's busy – just pretend things are normal. Or, at least, go through your normal days extra-cautiously. Over-cautiously."

Now Hunter glared. "Is that an order you just gave me?"

"It was a suggestion," Annabeth said in a dangerously low tone. "If you're looking for orders, I'm sure I could find someone authorized to give them to you."

"Guys," Nico interrupted before another word was uttered. "Just leave the prophecy alone. I think that's all we need to know."

There was a tense silence as Hunter and Annabeth glared one another down. Then, at last, Annabeth looked away and said, "Nico's right. Forget the prophecy. And since the probability of the missing line coming up is slim-" – another sideways glance at Nico – "-I think you should leave the prophecy be, and it ought to stay that way for a long time. Now, if the four of you will let me go, my brother Malcolm and I were working on something."

Brook nodded before Hunter could react and said, "Thank you. We'll keep you updated."

That part was a lie, though. I know because of the way she blew the hair out of her face after she said it. Brook always did that when she lied. I had yet to inform her, however, because having the information to myself came in handy.

Annabeth nodded. "Alright. Fates be with you." And she brought her hand forward, towards us-

-And the image shattered, scattering into little rainbow droplets, lost in a sea of mist.

oOo

I snuck out of the school cafeteria during lunch the next day.

I didn't have music that particular day because I alternated between music and gym. For some reason, this left me unsatisfied; hence me sneaking out.

But I wasn't headed for Mr. Banks's room.

I knocked tentatively on the auditorium's massive doors after standing there for two minutes, listening to papers shuffle. Music was playing through speakers. Now and then, I heard the singing of a bow on strings.

"Come in!" an energetic voice said. I couldn't tell if it was happy to see me or upset I'd interrupted lunch.

The door opened slowly. It seemed to fight me. But I got it open and stepped halfway into the room shyly, looking back at Mrs. May. She was a short woman with a mop of dark, pretty hair and dressed in a miss-matched sort of way. A fancy, formal white shirt tucked into her jeans. Reading glasses had slid down her nose. Her hands, not the thin light artist hands Nico and I had gotten from our father but rather a little stockier, were on her hips. I had no idea what to make of her expression – she had no eyebrows, but I could tell one was meant to be raised. Yet wide eyes implied complete and utter bewilderment.

"Well, hello," she said to me, clearly confused. "And who are you?"

I glanced at the half-eaten meatball sub on her desk. "I-I'm sorry if I interrupted lunch…"

I am not usually shy. I'm not afraid to approach people. I just don't _like _people. But this woman, after hearing her play and lead other players, after seeing and hearing the gaseous nectar fly from her fingers and instrument, I was definitely intimidated by.

"That's alright," she said. She had a naturally loud voice, too, made for making speeches on stage or giving orders to those far away. It echoed in the large room. Her desk looked out of place here, shoved up to one side next to the giant speakers. Above that desk on the wall, trophies stood proud on a shelf. "I don't have a class next period. I have time. But you didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

"…Bree."

"Bree who?"

"Just Bree. My grandparents send papers in to the state so I could get their last name, but we've had no reply yet. So for now I'm just Bree."

A moment later I was kicking myself for saying that. I never talked about that in school. Yet something about Mrs. May had brought it out of me.

The song on the speakers changed in the split moment of silence that followed. It burst into existence with a flurry of lyrics. The rhyming and syllables reminded me too much of _"Enslaved by traitor's hand and blade" _and _"To death are heroes damned by day."_

I shook my head to clear those thoughts. I'd toiled over the prophecy all night; now was not the time to bring it up again. At home, I could voice my thoughts to Hunter. Just thoughts. Not dissecting it like we'd been told not to, but comment. To comfort one another.

Mrs. May was smiling at me. "Well then, Bree, nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand. I shook it firmly. Something about her was telling me I didn't have to be shy, either. Though in the back of my mind I was still a little suppressed. I knew she was superior.

And she definitely had no uncertainty in herself.

"So what's brought you here?" she asked as she sat down. "I haven't seen you around school before."

"I, uh, came to get Natalie from your class the other day. Your head violist."

"Yes, I know who Natalie is."

"Er, right. Of course. But I heard you guys playing a song, and I was wondering what it was."

Mrs. May gave me that funny, wide-eyed, missing-eyebrow-raised look. It seemed like a valid question to me; and from what I knew of her, she thought it was, too. She gave me the expression for another reason. "Is that all?"

I shifted nervously. "…No. I guess, if you wouldn't mind, that I'd like a copy of the music for it."

A lopsided, crooked-toothed grin crossed her face. It made her resemble a young, dark-haired, combed Einstein. "Why on earth would I mind?"

oOo

**Nic: *taps foot***

**Nyx: *stares at ground***

**Nic: I'm waiting.**

**Nyx: *stalling* …Waiting for whaaaaat…**

**Nic: An explanation.**

**Nyx: …For what…**

**Nic: This not being finished before last night.**

**Nyx: *still staring at ground***

**Nic: I assume you had a reason?**

**Nyx: *inaudible mumbling***

**Nic: Speak up.**

**Nyx: I said I had a book. I was reading a good book. And I kinda didn't want to put it down.**

**Nic: A good book?**

**Nyx: A very good book.**

**Nic: Very well. Now, apologize to the readers. They can decide for themselves whether or not you're forgiven.**

**Nyx: …I'm sorry, guys…**

**Nic: Louder.**

**Nyx: I'm sorry. I was reading a book and got distracted.**

**Nic: Now, I-**

**Nyx: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!**

**Nic: *Facepalm* Just work on the next chapter… Which also should've been done last night…**

**Nyx: Yes, ma'am.**


	9. Guilty Pleasures

**DISCLAIMER: For as long as Octavian remains his creepy-as-heck stalker-traitor-coward self, Rick Riordan will own PJatO and HoO! Let that be the end of it!**

oOo

"So tell me, Bree. If you play, why aren't you in my class?"

She was shuffling through the filing cabinets caught between desk, speaker, and wall. The drawers made loud noises, creaking and rattling and slamming. Each one was stuffed full of files, all in alphabetical order. By genre, too, though, in little clumps; this was what caused her need for a frantic search.

"I, uh… I just got my violin. I don't really play it yet. Nor would I… I don't think I'd do well in your class."

"That's a bunch of bull," Mrs. May said, slamming another door shut. "Don't say that again."

"…Okay?..."

"Don't tell me you won't be good at something until you've tried your best at it," she said. "Ah, here's the file…"

"I didn't mean the violin. I'm willing to try that despite my doubts. I meant… It's just…"

She glanced at me. "Go on…"

"…People," I said simply.

Apparently, she had the wrong file. She shut the drawer and moved to the next. "What about people?"

"The majority of them don't get along with me."

"Don't ever let other people suppress you, either," she said, and turned to the next drawer.

"I don't…"

"Then why not join?"

"I guess it's me who doesn't get along with them. I'm the oddball. I have to say I'm proud of it, but I can't stand being in a crowd. I'm not claustrophobic until there's people involved – then I just about lose my head. School is already unpleasant enough."

"Ah. The proud, strong, silent, anti-social girl," she said, opening a drawer. "Okay, I'm sure this is it… Now, why don't you like people?"

I shrugged. "I don't… I don't entirely know. Part of it has always been a part of me; I've never been comfortable in crowds. I'm always nervous to put trust in anyone about anything. But I've also had some more recent experiences that tend to make me less eager to get to know others."

Such as being muttered about. Being called a demon. Being tricked into thinking I was one. Nearly being tricked into becoming one. Having people plot to attack me behind my back. Being attacked. Seeing traitors get caught. Seeing allies get killed in battle. Killing others in battle. Having the one person, save my sisters, that I reached out to in years slip from my hands like he was nothing more than mist. Reaching out like that, enjoying it, having him enjoy it, just so he could lose his life and I could hurt. Dealing with a semi-insane half-brother nearly every day now.

"Ah. So it'd be, like… Really uncomfortable for you?" Mrs. May clarified as she drew out a file. It was labeled in sloppy, looping English letters.

"Yes," I said. "It would."

"I see. Okay, here… What do you play, exactly? Viola?"

"Violin."

"M-kay. You want the Violin I or Violin II part?"

"Uh… What?"

"Both," she decided, and handed me four sheets of paper. "You said you're just starting to play?"

"Yes."

"Alright. I think I have a sheet here… My own daughter is starting…" She moved to her desk. "Here it is. I can run down to the copy machine and give that copy to you. It's just a sheet of simple things – Hot Cross Buns, the Indiana Jones theme song – things that you'll practice. The starter songs. There's a store's address written on the bottom, too. I suggest getting a starters book from there. It'll help you read music, get used to the strings and notes, teach you the basics…"

"Oh – okay," I said. Granny told me that people smile when they're pleased; so I tried to give her a smile. Making specific facial expressions felt odd, when they weren't part of a lie. "Thanks."

It hadn't occurred to me before that I couldn't just pick up and play the song. I didn't even know which string was which.

"Do you have a tuner?" Mrs. May asked.

"I think so. And I got someone who can show me how to handle it."

"Good. Good. Now, before I head down to the copier – who is your study hall teacher?"

"Mrs. Herron."

"Okay. I'll speak with her and see if I can get you down here for the orchestra class sometime next week. You don't have to participate; just sit and watch. I can put you in the back where you should feel more comfortable. And if you can make a friend… Jake! I'll sit you next to Jacob Harriet. You know him?"

I shook my head.

"He's quiet but friendly, and if you decide to stay in my class, he'll be your stand partner."

"Wait, so… You want me to come into class?"

"Well, yes. You want to play, don't you? As soon as being antisocial gets in the way of something you want, it becomes a problem. And you're going to fix that problem. If you want to play, I'll do my best to get you into my class. Make sense? I mean, you don't seem like the kind of girl who lets her problems fester." A small glance she sent down at my all-black attire confirmed that she was half-lying on the last statement.

Self-conscious, I blew the raven hair from my eyes. "…No, not usually."

Not anymore. Not after what I'd done last year.

She gave me that eccentric smile again. "Good. Now, I'll go get the sheet copied and write you a pass so you can get back into lunch without admitting to sneaking out. Oh, and you might want to have that bandage on your hand removed before you try to grab the bow.

I glanced at my right hand, still wrapped in bandages, mainly to protect it from alien surfaces and hide the burn. "Oh, that. It'll come off later today. …Thanks. For everything."

"No problem. I just hope to see you in my class one day."

oOo

"Looks like more snow tonight."

"Hm?" I asked, pausing on my way to my room and glancing at the television. Granny was frowning at the news forecast. Sure enough, we had another snowstorm headed our way.

"Ugh. We're definitely going to break those records," she muttered.

I stared at the massive pink digital blob heading towards the dot labeled 'Oswego'. "Dang. That looks worse than the other day's."

"It is."

I shrugged and made for the stairs. Sylvester meowed and wove between my feet as I went. The cat, braving my death-like presence? Could only mean one thing.

"You're hungry?" I guessed. He stopped respectfully at the door to my room and watched with lazy, calculating eyes as I laid my bag on the bed and shuffled through for the music Mrs. May had given me. "Hold on a sec."

He didn't like that. He yowled again and climbed onto the bed, making it shift and knocking over my backpack. I sighed. "Fine. Fine. I'll do it now."

He usually did this. Demanding food the moment we got back. He was Granny's responsibility in the morning, and ours every time else. Oh, but whose lap did he favor? Whose hand did he rub his face against? Who would he answer when called?

Granny.

He used to answer to Brook, too, until the whole running-of-the-wolves parade yesterday. The terrifying sight of Moon and the pack, even as small as Moon was, had him jumping just at the sight of Antonio. It was kind of funny.

I went into the bathroom – where his food was set up, totally out of the way of all the dogs – and poured the dry little pellets into the bowl. They made a sound similar to that of dumping gravel onto a road. I grimaced and decided, for a treat, I'd give him some of the wet food too.

On my way out I ran into Hunter. She was walking through the hallway, taking about one step every ten minutes, attention stuck in the massive book in her hands. There was only one thing that could be – one of Kronos's records.

I stopped and watched her for a moment. She glanced at me after a while. "Can I help you?"

"Is that… Your dad's?"

"Yes, it is. He's got a lot of interesting things in here." She shrugged and snapped the book shut, striding into her room. I followed. "You ought to read one or two. Not for the info – just for the read. He makes some interesting points in there."

I grimaced. The first 'interesting point' of Kronos's that came to my mind was that if you looked at your opponent as a target, as less than a demigod or human being, then it was easier to slit their throat. "Hunter…"

"What?"

"Why did you keep your dad's stuff?"

"Uh, because it's useful. Why?"

"Doesn't it seem a little… Dangerous?"

She paused. "Dangerous how?"

"I mean… The last time he gave you something 'useful' was…"

"Was how to use my scythe and work my magic and stay alive in a fight, be it against another mortal or demons. It was how to treat battle wounds. It was some of the oldest myths and their themes. And it's all these lovely demons, their features, and abilities all recorded here. That all seems quite useful to me."

"Remember, once we'd been introduced to Mount Othrys, how much we liked the idea of following him? How much we wanted to end Olympus and take over – help _him _– take over the world?"

She was facing away from me and spoke very, very quietly. "I do."

"Just… Just keep remembering that."

A sharp scowl, like a knife, entered her voice and she spat, "And you're giving me these orders under what authority?"

"I'm telling you as a friend. Don't forget what he did."

"Do you _honestly _think I could ever _begin-"_

"No. I don't. But remember it and apply the abstract variables here. I'm just telling you, it looks similar. …And Hunter?"

"What?" she rumbled venomously.

"…Please be careful."

She remained turned away and didn't say a word. Scared now that I'd upset her, and knowing she was best left alone to think, I left.

oOo

I gently plucked the strings on my new violin, listening to the notes ring out, hearing each one's wonderful song, reveling in their sound, until the familiar knock came at the door. Three rapid taps and then a hesitant fourth. As soon as I heard it, I began to pack the instrument up. I glanced out the window, at the sun – it had found a small section of sky free of clouds, and proved that he was right on time.

I don't think Nico knocked in a specific beat consciously. Nor had we decided on any sort of code. It was just habit. Yet still, I would recognize the knock anywhere.

As soon as the case was zipped and placed above the heater, I was bolting down the stairs. I heard him talking to Granny; relief rushed through me. For some reason, I'd been afraid that after our act of 'insubordination' would anger him beyond returning.

"…She's coming," Granny assured him as I reached the foyer. His dark head peeked over her shoulder at me. "You two take it easy, and come inside if the snowstorm hits!"

"Yes, ma'am," we said as we rushed back out the door. Well, I rushed out, and Nico rushed away. It occurred to me then that he didn't like being in someone else's house. I'd seen him grow uncomfortable when he stepped over the threshold, and how fiercely he'd fought us when we'd brought up the prophecy. That had all been inside. Perhaps he just didn't like unfamiliar territory.

Confirming the thought, he settled down in his same place, ten feet from mine and facing away from the street. He sat down right there in the snow and motioned for me to do the same. Next door, the bird's calm debate had grown long, and they were tired; sharp voices and angry squawks could be heard. It was chilly, but the sun was out, making the snow sparkle. The spilled sap of the fallen pine tree still released its sweet scents into the air.

"So do you have something in mind?" I asked.

"I assumed we'd pick up where we left off. You reading memories from your sword," he said, with a rather grey tone and a similar facial expression.

Dang, he was persistent. I shuffled backwards a little bit. "Then you're going to break part of my mind, right?"

"Well, I figured today we could just go through your own memories. And then at the end make a small attempt on the rest. Whether or not it works, I don't care – we'll work on it more tomorrow."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Okay. I think I can do that much."

He shuffled until he was in a more comfortable position – his legs tucked beneath him so he could sit up straight – and motioned for me to start.

A long breath escaped me, and of their own wont, my eyes closed. My fingers drew Întuneric and I felt it widen and grow and shift until I held my sword. I let it lay on my lap, one hand still holding its hilt, and brushed my fingers down its length. The cold metal sent sparks up my arm.

"You're doing fine so far," I heard Nico murmur from somewhere far away. "Nice and easy now."

I ran my fingers along it again, asking. The blade almost didn't seem to care – it opened up without much force from me, or asking who I was. The first recording took over, making the snow and the birds and the sky and the wind and the sun completely vanish. I was in a different world now.

To say the sword held my memories would be wrong. In fact, despite what we called these remnants, they were hardly memories at all. They were what the sword absorbed from what and who it killed.

I was well familiar with the first one. Whoever they had been, they had a very strong appreciation for orange sherbet ice cream. It melted on their tongue and flooded their mind with its taste. Cold, sweet, citrusy, and very creamy…

…The next blended in nicely, taking over at a subtle fade. The sound of music. Many songs, crashing together. I think they were classical. I heard strings and a little guitar and the beat of drums. Strange, the collision of so many songs sounded okay. Not good, not horrible. Just okay. I felt the sudden urge to stop, go through each one, separate one song from the next, and listen to them individually. Oh, I'd love to do that. To hear the music just once more…

The feel of grass beneath my feet. Warm sun, gently baking my skin, heating my clothes. The smell of flowers. The gentle promises of a soft breeze. I could just let myself fall back into the grass and sleep here forever, without a single care in the world.

Then the grass gave way to a dirty ally floor. I saw half-hidden flickers of a fire. People were gathered around it, nothing more than the orange flashes across their faces and glinting on their clothes. They were all ages, all sizes, and all dressed the same way; in rags. Torn things that wouldn't protect them from the winters here. They warmed themselves up with the fires and the songs belted out from the older, drunk men. The women would laugh and hold their children close. They were so happy to have me here. But would I still be welcome if they knew what I was, that I wasn't but half human…

…Camp Half-Blood. Many years here. Many joys. I love the burn in my legs and the smell of the forge fires in the air and the light twinkle of the dryad's laughs. This is my home. It always will be.

Root beer. Root beer with my brother Greg. The best of times. That's what flashes before my mind as the black sword flies at my throat. And I realize that's what I'll miss the most. I hope he's okay, and that he'll make it out alive today.

The memories went on. I have never counted them, and I never will. I let myself be dragged through them, listening, tasting remembering. Small things. Sometimes the big things, like a home or a relative. But mainly the small things. The little things they appreciated so much, those things they'd miss. The things I'm sure the ghosts remembered.

The last bit I had memorized. The color red. The color of passion. It stood out everywhere, blared warnings and could make you halt or make you run. And everywhere it was, it was such a deep color. The color of love. The color of danger. The color of blood.

I took my hands from Întuneric, knowing that memory. That was the last one. The first demigod I'd killed, a Roman veteran from the group that'd tried to stop us from boarding the _Princess Andromeda._ I did not linger with my sword long enough for the next memory to start.

The memory I told Nico didn't exist.

Nico, who I might add, didn't really seem to be paying attention to me or my task.

He had closed his eyes and tipped his head back to the sun, leaning back on his hands, and started to hum. I opened my mouth to mention that he wasn't going to know which part of me to break if he wasn't watching me, but stopped, and the reason I did so made my blood run cold.

"That song," I rasped. Its melody dipped and swooped and, much more coarse coming from Nico, was way too familiar. That sad song all in minor chords. "I know that song."

"You do?" he asked, seeming quite at peace.

"…Yeah… I can never remember it, though. I think I heard it in a dream, but it evades my memory so easily I'm beginning to think I imagined it. How did you…?"

He considered, opening his eyes to squint at the sky. "Uh… I don't know, actually. Maybe Phil likes to hum it. I can't remember."

Well, that just convinced me that I _had _imagined it. "…Oh. Can't remember."

"There's a _lot _of things I can't remember," he muttered, and sat up again to face me. "Anyway, I didn't find much wrong with your technique. Pretty good, actually. A little reluctant, but we'll fix that. Try for the other recordings."

I sighed and glanced down at my blade. It hummed reassuringly. I wasn't that convinced.

But I had to put on a show for Nico. Maybe if I proved there was no problem with my search and lied, saying it came up fruitless, he'd give up and admit there were no other memories here. Just my own, and that Kronos had been telling the truth when he said Telekhines made my blade just over a year ago.

So I closed my eyes again and let my fingers brush the cold metal. Întuneric shuddered and found the memory I was looking for. This one, a real memory, a marker, the sword's way of saying, _Here it is! Here's what you don't know! Here's what I have been hiding! You are open to all of it now…_

…I held a spear. It shook and hummed, literally, blue sparks jumping up its length. Around me, the familiar surge of a battle raged. Screams lit the sky better than the stars did. Before me was another boy, maybe seventeen years old, brandishing a black sword-

-And it changed. Suddenly I held the black sword. _Umbra_, I had named it. It knew its name; it knew its task; it knew what to do. The brunet Child of Jupiter brandishing the spear charged, yowling like a very angry cat.

And then I watched from aside as the two dueled. As they did, other memories, the ones like before, infected the image – I could taste chocolate. He had liked chocolate.

I could point out where the son of Jupiter went wrong. He was a great fighter, but it was a small step out of line, a small lack of knowledge to my fighting style. To his opponent's fighting style. A familiar black sword plunged into his collar bone and then wrenched itself free, blood dripping from the jagged edges onto the sand. The Child of Jupiter dropped like a rock.

But the memory was not over. Here it grew fuzzy, as it always did, as if something was covering my view. Yet I could still make out what happened next.

The boy wielding what would be my sword whirled around on his next opponent as they surfaced from the raging sea of the battle – a younger boy, of twelve, wielding a trident and a weighted net. Standard gladiator equipment. By the way he moved, you could tell he was skilled with it.

The world grew darker, fuzzier, as they engaged. It was hard to see what really happened. But new sensations, new records, filtered through – the smell of cinnamon and sugar in a warm kitchen. The hum of my mother at work. Oh, it was so sweet, just the slightest bit of those memories.

The weighted net tangled around the son of Pluto's sword hand. He gasped as he was lurched forward, bent over, black sword still held despite the obstruction.

The son of Neptune baited him. Leapt forward. And then leapt back as the older boy swung.

The weight of the net snapped the black sword back into place, but the guy had already lunged forward. The last thing I saw was Întuneric – no, Umbra, as it had been back then – disappearing into him, right in the soft spot where his throat met his jaw. It had been his fault, but still. The sword killed its own master.

Then the memory was gone. I clenched my hands tighter on Întuneric, and felt it thrust another recording at me before I could pull out. But it was empty. I saw, felt, heard, tasted, and smelled nothing. It was a shock to me.

Huh. Maybe there really was nothing more.

I opened my eyes to look at Nico, who was staring intently at me this time. "Nothing. I searched, but I saw nothing."

If I told him, he'd make me look for more. And I wanted nothing to do with that war. With any war, really, but that one in particular…

He sighed and shifted in the snow. "…Um… I saw a really strong denial. You positive you saw nothing?"

"Absolutely sure."

"There's some part of you that's terrified of those memories. A little resentful. And it wouldn't dare open them."

I wasn't so sure I liked the way he read me so easily. Though I was glad he didn't realize I was doing it all consciously. "…Okay…"

"We'll break that tomorrow," he said, raising his voice. The wind had picked up. That same, insane smile crossed his face again. "I think you'll like that lesson!"

I frowned, not so sure on that, and glanced up at the sky. It had darkened. The sun was no longer smiling at us from between the clouds. "I think we better get inside," I called over the wind.

He glanced up and squinted again. "…That might be a good idea!" And we made like the howling wind, racing for the dug-out path before the door.

oOo

**Nic: Took you long enough.**

**Nyx: Ehehehe… Had some unexpected company to entertain today… ANYWAY! I will be on vacation next week and will not be able to update. The next chapter will be up on June 20****th****. So enjoy the many chapters posted this week! The poll will remain up, as we still have a tie, until I get back. I shall announce the results then and put up a new poll.**

**Nic: There's a fly hanging out around your computer.**

**Nyx: I SEE it, Nic! It runs every time I get the flyswatter!**

**Nic: I can't imagine why…**

**Nyx: Anyway, I have to go pack. But, in the meantime, tell us what you think, please! We love to hear feedback. It'd be great to come back from vacation and find a great big pile of reviews waiting for me. Anything at all, please do say! This week in particular I'm hoping for predictions. Nico doesn't like messing with prophecies, but if you guys do, I won't tell him! What does it mean? Who do you think sent it? And what about the drakon? Are we mad at Nico for spying on the girls for Hades? Comments on the writing – do you like this so far? How is it compared to Rebels? There's a lot I could ask, but I'll leave you guys to your imaginations. Bottom line, tell us what's on your mind!**

**Nic: Thanks to all those who will review, and all who read! We look forward to…**

**Nyx: *running off to the right* NO! GET BACK OUT HERE, CAT! THE CLOSET IS OFF-LIMITS!**

**Nic: Try catnip.**

**Nyx: *ignores her and grabs cat* Come on out, you… OW! HEY! DON'T YOU DARE BITE ME! I FEED YOU!**

**Nic: *smiles evilly***

**Nyx: *still in closet* Come here, you silly cat…**

**Nic: *shuts and locks closet door, then walks away nonchalantly***


	10. Know Your Enemy

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan owns PJatO and HoO, not us. That is likely to never change. But, I guess, technically not impossible.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**DiamondPheonix12 - Nyx: Thanks. I hadn't really noted that; it was a neat thing to point out. You've got a good eye. Nic: OF COURSE you like our writing! MWAHAHA! Nyx: I'll ask this 'cause I'm curious and I haven't seen you on here before; did you read Rebels first, or is this your first fanfic by us? And I love your word choice, btw. Nice.**

oOo

"Storm?" Brook guessed as we stepped into the living room, shaking the last of the snow from our jeans. Nico hesitated at every new doorway. I grabbed a hold of his sleeve, guiding him, inviting him into each room.

"Yeah. Wind's horrible," I answered. Sylvester, who had been helping himself to a chicken desert from our dinner on the counter, yowled and raced for cover.

Nico glanced at the stove's clock through the massive living room entryway – not a door but really just a big gap in the wall. "We got time to kill. Anything interesting that won't tear the house down?"

Aside from lying about sword-memories as we had just done outside? "Um… Control exercises? With the shadows? Maybe if you have those down, we could try the blood temperature thing."

"Or we could just sit down and watch the news," Granny suggested from the couch. I glanced around – Grandpa was nowhere to be seen, and Hunter must've been upstairs. As she'd been since our latest little spat.

We hadn't fought at all since coming here. Now, I was beginning to worry I'd shattered our peace.

Nico opened his mouth to say something, but outside, a loud clap of thunder went off. It was so loud and so close, the house shuddered. We all yelped and ducked down instinctively.

As the rumble of it faded, my eyes met his. "Quite the snowstorm," he muttered.

"The news it is," Granny decided for us, and turned up the television. "It must've come in faster than they expected."

"When did they expect it, then?" Nico muttered.

"I don't know, but not so fast," Granny said. Footsteps on the top of the stairs announced Hunter. But, adding to my anxiety, that was where she stayed. Probably only listening in hopes of another snow day.

I waved my brother forward and found a seat on the carpet next to Brook. Nico, of course, followed my lead. We turned our attention to the television screen. Or, I did - he was busy making the couch's shadow stretch and twist.

The news reporter on screen stood before the river, proudly waving downsream - to the north, and at the lake - and talking about an abandoned building near there where some drug gang had been busted. A dazzling white smile, as fake as every other color on her face and light hair, glared at us for not paying full attention. The river seemed annoyed with her, annoyed with us all, angry at being confined by the city, dark grey waves churning as it rushed on, boldly indifferent. Behind it, West Side was full of old buildings dripping with age. Dull colors and boring shapes, repeated, all stained with grey. It would be kind of inviting, an old town, if it weren't so poisoned-looking.

At my side, Brook stiffened. I glanced at her. Nico paused in his playful game with the shadows.

"What?" Granny asked us.

"Her hair," Brook said, shocked. "Look at her hair."

I frowned. Dull grey-brown at the, died blonde milimeters after and done up with streaks and highlights. "Um..."

"It's not moving," Brook choked.

All five of us glanced at the window, which rattled and banged in the wind outside. Not a glimmer of the cloud-shrouded sunlight filtered through the blinds.

Nico got to his feet and moved to the window, ignoring Granny's nervous warning to stay away. He glanced up at the sky and shook his head. "It's pitch black up there."

"Weird. Can you see our house on the screen?" Hunter asked.

"No, it's the northern half of West Side. Wait, no, now they're showing East Side. Some stupid factory building," Brook answered. "It doesn't look black there. Light grey, actually."

Nico made a odd sound and settled himself on the arm of the couch, content to keep watch out the window. As the story on the news was wrapped up, the sprinkle of rain began above our heads.

The weatherman appeared, an equally forced smile plastered on his wrinkled face. Laugh lines, the crinkles next to his eyes, were engraved too deeply, as if they had been carved rather than worn in. But there was a light in his eyes that wasn't quite so hostile or fake. He motioned to the map proudly, at the Oswego River, at the towns nearby. Temperatures popped up across the map.

The patter of rain grew louder, faster. Hunter frowned at the ceiling.

At last, the map changed to a full-blown weather map, complete with neon clouds swirling across the land and Ontario. The man brought his hand reassuringly across the impressive gathering of pink snow clouds, a great cotton ball, gathered above the lake, moving southeast and promising it'd hit land - and Oswego - in about...

"Three hours," Granny breathed.

"Then why now?" Brook asked. Next to her, Moon barked and flattened her ears to her furry silver head.

Before anyone could answer, thunder punched through the air again, a loud clap that felt like a sack of apples landing on my chest. Blinding white light shot in from the windows, overpowering the television and lightbulbs, searing everything with its harsh glare. Then it was gone, leaving nothing but dancing, fuzzy colors in my vision and the hungry, rumbling aftershock.

Nico, who had leapt off the couch in shock, growled back and muttered something about playing with fire.

The lights had gone out, even the television, plunging the house into darkness. Save the soft glow of Anonymous. Hunter, illuminated by the Celestial bronze in its blades, held her finger to her lips and began to creep down the stairs.

Halfway down, lightning flashed again. The cackle of thunder echoed ominously above the angry, furious pounding of the rain.

Immediately, Brook's bow leapt to life. Glass shattered as an arrow flew through the window. Nico and I scrambled back, cursing. The wind from outside burst into the room, whipping up pappers and hair, tossing the rain against us. Great big drops plopped against us, the floor, the couch. Sylvester screamed from somewhere.

Intuneric and Mνήμη were drawn. The tinkling pitter-patter of glass aganist them went off as Brook said, tersely, "I saw a hand."

Hunter frowned. "A hand?"

Brook nodded. "A human hand, on the window."

The wind picked up again, shrieking. The house groaned and creaked beneath it.

"We have to get out!" Nico yelled above its howls. "They're trying to wreck the house!"

"Who? Zeus?" Hunter muttered, leaping over the stairs' railing and onto the carpet. The scythe lit up the fallen glass shards with brilliant gold.

Nico shook his head. "No. He wouldn't provoke Hades that way, through destroying his charges or the son who just got his name cleared. This is something else!"

No sooner had he spoke, lightning flashed again. Thunder rang out so loud, I swear I had gone deaf. I squeezed my eyes shut and cowered, feeling the old house shudder, trying to hide from the lightning's deathly glow.

Slowly, I blinked, waiting as vision and sound blurred back into the world. The massive dark shape of the window stood out against the pastel fuzzes; I stared, blinking...

As I watched, something flew by. A boy, I thought, no older than I. When light struck him, he had skin, a red shirt, playful green eyes and a mop of brown hair.

But as he ducked away, I saw different.

The shadows let the illusion fall away. I saw clouds, angry clouds, a furious swirling mass of smoke, crafting his face and each curve on his shoulders, his arms, down to the fingers. White teeth gleamed like polished tombstones, sparks of electricity flashing between them. Lightning eyes spoke of insanity and the pleasure at each sound the house made, at each second I stared, at each sound Moon made, at the howls of the wind...

...And he faded into the black storm on giant wings, crafted of swirling storm clouds. They beat twice and he vanished entirely.

In response, the house shook again, groaning.

Hunter's order rang out; she must've seen him, too. "OUT! GET OUT!"

I leapt to my feet and followed her, knowing I could trace that voice through a hurricane if I had to. Brook was on my heels, and Moon darting ahead. We bolted for the door as fast as we could. I could feel the connection between us there - the preparation for a fight. Our strategy rang clear; get out there, stand together, make a great big force with one another, keep them off the house, press on until the enemy backs up...

...But we were already separated. Nico had, instead of moving for the door with us to make that tight force we needed, bounded out the window. I heard him yell from out of sight. The rumble of hungry thunder rang out again.

The door banged open, and we plunged into the storm.

The first thing I noticed was the rain. I could see it just fine in the lack of light. It slammed down with anger, fury, with bloody lust; it exploded on the snow and the house, gathered in menacing puddles, trying desperately to drown the earth. It made the gutters tremble and bang. It had already filled the trashcan. It pounded on me just as heavily. Little sledgehammers, snickering with every hit.

The wind was next. It pulled at me like an underwater current, stronger than it'd been inside, ripping at my sword and jacket.

I squinted through the rain and followed my sisters across the snow. We made for the neighbor's fence. Here, we grouped, gathered ourselves; here, we would make our stand.

Intuneric hummed in my hands, reacting to the shadows gathering at its blade. I felt them curl and twist, pulled them tigher, tension building like a drawn slingshot -

-And I flung them out, let them fly into the black clouds above and slam silently into the storm. Beside me, a golden whip of sparks disappeared into the rain. Silver wolves growled as they emerged from hiding places and gathered at our feet.

Somewhere, there was a horrifying shriek, the rumble of thunder stretched too far, too high-pitched, too pained to be thunder. Nico's triumphant laugh followed it.

Immediately, emerging from the clouds, five more smoky angels shot down at us.

We dashed in separate directions. Separated by mere yards, dividing our opponents. Two of them fell on me with bright flashes in their fingers.

I yelled and rollled aside, pulling Stygian iron from the ground to slam into one and leaping up to stab the other. Lightning crashed into the snow where I'd just stood. The swirl of clouds just grinned at me and backed up on its wings, completely unharmed. Its buddy - also somehow still alive - shot at me from the side.

I cursed and dove into the shadows, daring them to move _this _fast.

Orange flickers marked Hunter and Brook. Shrouded by the house, a third gave away Nico. But above us...

...We were huddled beneath a mass of seething red flames. In other words, lots and lots of demons.

The shadows moved with me as I slid to one side, building around me. I pulled them from the house, from the fence, from the air - it was so dark beneath the clouds. I fired at the red flames before me and, thank the gods, they sputtered and went out. Dark shadows flooded their vacated places.

Then white.

It lit the world on fire. It dominated air and surface and danced in thousands of reflections off the snow. It burned, total agony, blazing through everything. Even me. I screeched and hid in the small, pitiful shadow gathered behind Brook. The moment in which the lightning struck was dragged out to me; it lasted for a whole minute, searing everything, scattering the shadows like birds before a gunshot.

Then the world darkened again. Shadows shot back into place like they'd never been moved, sudden and strong in the absence of lightning, nearly suffocating. I was lost in their rush of regained power.

Then I grit my teeth, glared at the firey red blaze above me, and fired it all upwards.

The rush was more than it'd been when the lightning died. They ran through me, through Intuneric, and shot into the sky full of the glory that comes with superiority. My superiority. I had them now. The shadows had them now.

And I had a _lot _of shadows.

It felt like channeling a river. My own thoughts bounced and reflected off it like light on water. It rushed by so fast, so strong, wearing at my edges. Above, the red glow began to fade. Slowly, I began to hold back, fold in on myself, cut off the flow...

Yet the red was still there. I began to fire, aiming specifically. Shadows continued to stream through.

Eventually, though, I had to kill it. I cut them off and dropped back into my rightful realm, knowing I couldn't push it. Even if I didn't drop just yet; where would I be if this was just the first wave, and I was out of gas?

Panting, I found my place beside Hunter and Brook again. Above us were the growls of angry monsters. Despite the faded clouds, the light filtering down to us, the easing up of rain, they were still there.

Nico appeared from around the house, glaring up at them.

Hunter swung her scythe around, a signal, and charged.

Brook and I split up, running in opposite directions around her. A big loop. The wolves, utterly confused, glanced at us all before following on unsteady paws, half after Brook, some after Hunter, and one totally lost and staring at us blankly.

The thunder growled, lighting struck the fence, and the beat of wings announced their approach.

I dimly noticed that it was good they were no longer assaulting our house.

Fighting with demons is not dancing. Far from it. Life's lies, once again, disappearing. Or, really, this time just my assumptions. I'd thought it'd be similar to training, or the midst of a battle. It's not.

This furious wind spirit came at me in the form of a stormy horse, galloping through the air. It left a trail of miniature storms in its wake. Lightning crackled in its mane.

As it thundered by I lunged to one side and lashed out with my sword. It passed harmlessly through the smoky figure. The horse, in response, shrieked and whirled to come at me again.

I growled and leapt into the air, throwing my weight forward, and slicing at it from above as it passed.

I don't recall landing.

White went off again, a blinding flash, sounding as if my eardrums had exploded. My arm went completely numb and fuzzy. Not in a good way. It stung like all heck. Intuneric vanished from my grip and the next thing I knew I was in the snow, gasping, chest aching from lack of breath.

Somewhere, I felt the pounding of hooves through the snow, and knew I had to move.

My arm twitched but moved, shuffling nervously in the snow. I experimentally flexed my fingers and pushed myself up. Ah, it stung and hurt bad, but it was alright. I had enough control to grab my sword.

Wherever it had landed.

There. Smoking in the snow. Smoldering. The frost around it had turned to ice.

I glanced at it, then up at the charging horse. I had two seconds.

With a feral yowl I lunged, rolling on top of the ice, and grabbed Intuneric with my left hand. It trembled and shook like a furious hive of bees.

I screeched and flung it at the horse as it rushed past. It went through the neck, completely useless.

The horse nickered at me as it turned, lightning eyes glinting mischeviously.

Before it could take another step, something silver slammed into it with such force they crashed into the snow. Before my eyes, it disappated into smoke, and didn't form again.

Moon nodded at me and moved on, leaping into the air to catch the next one.

Go freaking figure.

I whirled around for Hunter's next order, but she was locked in a fight. Anonymous, like my own sword, just couldn't make a cut. More and more stormy, angel-like figures swooped around and fired like a flock of angry birds. The only reason they hadn't killed us with lightnign was her time powers, slowing each strike down. Brook was zig-zagging around the parking lot as she fired her bow, getting new angles and new shots, new positions. But her arrows passed straight through them most of the time. The wolves were nearly useless, running around in a panic, snapping at every moving thing. Including us. Nico was fighting his own battle; he moved in disregard of it all, baiting his own targets, moving in his own way. He wasn't making much progress, either. But he moved fast; watching that, I knew he'd been holding back in our training sessions.

I scowled and, knowing I was the only one who could reign him in, ran for the three monsters on his tail. But as familiar as he was becoming to me, I couldn't follow so easily. He danced and moved as if he weren't really there, nor his weapons. And he cut across the parking lot in such a strange pattern. I found myself failing, and the distance between us grew.

My opening came two seconds later. He turned to slash at the storm spirit behind him and, as strange to Brook as she was to him, crashed right into the smaller girl. They both disappeared into the snow. The monsters, eager now, dove after them.

With them out of the crosshairs, I had a clean shot, and shot the shadows at their assailants as fast as I could. Which is fast. The spirits burst into showers of rain and golden dust.

I frowned. There _had _to be a pattern to what killed them...

Nico and Brook leapt to their feet, only to continue on their complicated paths.

I gave up chasing him and ran to back Hunter up. She was much more familiar; and, at last, I found the dance that had faded from my life. The unity. Our steps fell into time, a beat whose source echoed painfully in our minds, and found what we had lost over that long year. It'd come back to us last the day Ethan died. The day we faced Kronos.

Despite our fight earlier, this wasn't broken. Not even nicked. Nothing could touch this.

We fought back-to-back, covering one another, shooting down what we could. Scythe and sword moved in time. We tucked and twisted around one another. We always knew where the other was; how they were moving; where they needed us. Easy as breathing. For a moment, I forgot Nico, felt just the faintest traces of Brook, and the wolves completely vanished.

Just us and the demons. I could live with that.

But we were broken by a wolf. It charged past us, barreling after another storm person.

I tripped on it as it ran beneath me and fell into the snow, rolling with the impact away from Hunter, then getting to my feet. There were less demons now, but it was total chaos; if we couldn't pull together, we were going to be killed.

First was the wolves.

Brook was yelling to them, but they didn't know English that well, and they weren't listening to my cries either. Nor Hunter's. Wild dogs, running about, snapping at the wings of spirits.

Moon howled, leaping in front of me, snarling at a spirit. Saliva dripped from her curled lips and long fangs. Yellow eyes glittered with such hate, I took a step back.

She howled and lunged, missing, but turning around and racing back to Brook.

Next to me, Hunter cursed as lightning splashed across the snow at her feet.

I sighed and ran to help again, passing Nico as I went. He was still in his own world.

As we fought, another howl from Moon split the night. The wolf that'd run into us - the big dark male, Night - stopped and lifted his head, ears errect.

I moved around him and leapt at the storm spirit from behind. Intuneric disappeared into smoky wings. To my surprise, the demon howled and whirled on me. Before it could, Anonymous cut through its middle, and it burst into shadowy ash.

Another wolf's cry rang out. Moon again. The wolves began to turn, looking at her, running when she barked.

Nico leapt into view, shooting at his own opponents again. At last he caught one from the side and it disappeared. The last one on him yelled and charged, and he was running once more.

From the side. Behind. Through wicked-fast shadows.

In order to land a blow, it had to be taken by surprise.

Moon was howling another command when Nico crashed into her. I fired at the demon on his heels and, sure enough, it disappeared.

To my right, Brook yelled. A monster had figured out her running pattern.

As I ran to help her, Nico and Moon got to their feet and paws (respectively) and while teh former ran off, the latter howled again. The last of the wolves fell into place behind her.

At last I found myself at Nico's side. He glanced at me in bewilderment but recognized my signal; he fell in on my heels as we raced back for Hunter.

Only three more demons remained. We could do this.

Two dove for Hunter. The third tried, but found itself busy with six angry wolves.

Mνήμη sliced three times through the first storm spirit and failed to cut. Hunter and I worked around Nico carefully, looking for our best opening. My legs were starting to burn.

Before we could finish it off, a silver arrow sprang into existence between its lightning eyes, and it vanished. We whirled on the next to see it overrun by a coordinated, organized ambush of wolves. The pack's previous opponent was gone.

Moon leapt from behind and clamped her jaws on its wrist. It screeched and pulled, but she'd locked on tight. A second wolf grabbed its ankle. Desperately, the wings flapped, trying to rise into the air. Night angrily grabbed them and wrenched them sharply to the side, rendering them useless.

A light silver wolf stalked around from the side, jaws open for the kill

"Wait!" Hunter barked, and the wolf turned to look at her. She ran forward in a blur of time magic and held Anonymous's blade beneath the demon's chin, golden eyes blazing.

"If," she spat, "you are capable of speech, explain who sent you and why. Maybe then I'll remember how to speak wolf and tell them to let you go. But I can't. I haven't been enticed to remember lately."

The demon growled, a sound like boiling thunder. Nico, who knew the game well, nicked its shoulder from behind. The storm spirit screeched again.

Hunter glared at it. Her narrowed eyes began to glow.

It hissed angrily at her. "_Do it, coward!" _Its voice was whispy but loud, naught but torn wind through trees. "_You've been warned; we haven't killed you today, but something else will. I promise. She has told you already."_ A horrible, guteral laugh bubbled in its chest.

At some unseen signal from Hunter, Brook's bow fired one last time. The spiteful storm spirit disappeared in a brilliant, bright display of golden dust and rain, which both glittered in the light from the cold, revived sun above.

oOo

**Nyx: Heeeey guys I'm gonna try to make this quick. First off; vacation was great. Second; something came up, and I will not have my computer for the next month. However, I will have this one. But it does not like the accent on the I in Intuneric. Third; poll results.**

1 Nico will sacrifice himself getting the remaining Seven (Five) demigods to the House of Hades/Closing the Doors of Death ("An oath to keep with a final breath"). 2 » 11%

2 There will be scenes told by Percy/Annabeth from within Tartarus. 2 » 11%

3 Percy and Annabeth will be saved. 2 » 11%

4 Thanatos will whack people with his iPad out of sheer annoyance. 2 » 11%

5 Nobody will die closing the Doors but someone will be trapped in Tartarus and must find a new way out. 2 » 11%

6 Octavian will be slapped. 2 » 11%

7 Prophyrion will make a reappearance. 1 » 5%

8 Jason and Nico will clash/argue/fight. 1 » 5%

9 There will be Nico's POV. 1 » 5%

10 Frank or Hazel's borrowed time will run out. 1 » 5%

11 Camp Half-Blood WILL be attacked/partially destroyed/wholly destroyed by Camp Jupiter. 1 » 5%

12 Greeks and Romans will come into such strong conflict somebody dies for it. 1 » 5%

13 Annabeth will get killed using the statue to seal the Doors. ("Oath to keep with a final breath"/Percy's foretold heartbreak) 0 » 0%

0 » 0% 14 Reyna will die.

0 » 0% 15 Hylla will die.

0 » 0% 16 Clarisse will die.

0 » 0% 17 Hazel will close the doors (and die/live/be trapped/etc.).

0 » 0% 18 Frank and Leo will be an epic hero fighting team and do awesome things.

0 » 0% 19 Nico will get mad at Frank for making a move on Hazel.

0 » 0% 20 The world will "fall to storm or fire."

0 » 0% 21 Greece will be destroyed.

**Nic: Very interesting.**

**Nyx: Thanks to our one reviewer and those who voted. The next poll will be up momentarily. As far as the chapter goes, it's not my best. *nor does this computer's program have autocorrect on typos* But there's some interesting things in there. The next chapter's more interesting. **

**Nic: Yay!**

**Nyx: With that said, please review. Tell us what you think. There's a lot going on in this scene, but it's important, and I think worthy of discussion. Please click that little button down there. Leave a comment. Harass me on my rushed chapter. Really, I read everything, and I want to hear what you have to say.**

**Nic: Me, too! ...Hey...**

**Nyx: ?**

**Nic: Its breakfast time.**

**Nyx: Ah. Pancakes?**

**Nic: Sounds fine.**


	11. Ready Set

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan's name is still on all the PJatO and HoO books.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**tranduillon - Heheh yeah I noticed that 24-chapter stories can have over 600 reviews and Rebels is 53 chapters with 53 reviews. The numbers have weight, but they're not the core of it; what shocks me is silence. This is Nyx speaking, if you couldn't tell, and for several reasons I've always been a social dud. It's hard for me to interpret this silence. And yay, thanks for still reading. Glad I've kept your interest. Mine has always been in the characters. I'd be writing my own series right now if I could stand to leave Bree, Hunter, and Brook (and their story too, I guess) unfinished.**

oOo

"Here it is," Hunter muttered, turning three last pages in the massive book. "I knew I'd seen it somewhere."

There, on wrinkled yellow pages, inked with amazing detail, was a picture of the storm-spirits.

"Dang. Wish he'd given us drawing lessons," Brook muttered.

Nico leaned forward and looked at the picture upside-down. "That's them alright. How much did he know?"

Hunter squinted and read the small, delicate handwriting. It was in all caps, typical of the Ancient Greek language. "...Storm spirits... Possess powers of wind and lightning, and through that a little thunder... Untamed, usually contained but unleashed at times..." Her eyes widened as she trailed off.

"What?" Brook asked.

"'_The birth of these creatures predates my own birth; however, after being caged for so long, they were released after my fall. They took part in attempts to avenge my fall, released and created by one of my most generous patrons,'"_ Hunter read. "Dang. I'm seeing a pattern here, guys."

"All of this predates Olympus and the Titans," Nico muttered. "The drakon, the spirits, even the prophecy. This is beyond us."

"I wouldn't say that," Hunter muttered. "And they're called _Venti,_ by the way."

"Wait, wait, wait," Brook said. "Slow down. We have no idea _where _the prophecy came from. Just that it wasn't Apollo."

"Well, it has to fit in somewhere," I pointed out. "It must be really old, too. Its source. And the Ventus said that we'd been warned by the one who sent it - so it had to come from their boss."

"Does that make it reliable?" Hunter wondered aloud.

Nico scowled, a look that resembled a fanged, feral creature. "Absolutely not. This source just tried to kill us."

"Yeah, well, Oracles and masters of prophecy have never been able to lie about it, since the beginning of time," Hunter argued. "I think it's legit."

"And if the truth was given to us only to mess with our heads?" he challenged, obsidian eyes glittering like slick rocks.

"Guys," Brook interrupted. "Forget the prophecy for right now. We got to figure out who the source is first. One of Kronos's supporters, obviously."

We all looked at Hunter, knowing she had the list memorized. She'd been his representative more than once.

She sighed. "I don't know. Other Titans? A few minor Olympians? But they all came after Dad. I didn't come across anyone who was older than him. ...Didn't think there _was _anyone older than him."

"There were Four Ages," Nico argued. "This is the Fourth, the Age of Olympus. Kronos ruled the third. Beyond that, I'm lost." His eyes closed and hands clenched, nails digging into the quilt and shoulders stiff. I'd never seen him so frustrated. Come to think of it, the fight seemed to have him kind of frazzled.

Hunter sighed and slammed the book shut - making the whole bed shake - and shoved it aside. "Well, at least we can be sure the prophecy was real."

"Unless it wasn't an oracle and they were lying to us," Brook pointed out.

"Ugh. Or that," I muttered, and fell back onto the pillows. Hunter's ceiling, which had been assaulted with her self-designed paintball gun, was a brilliant display of loud neon splatters. They made my mind wander from its worries for a moment.

"Forget the prophecy," Nico muttered through clenched teeth. "It doesn't make sense anyway."

The words seemed louder than the paintball marks. We all lifted our heads to stare at him.

"...It wasn't obvious, no..." Brook mused. "But it never contradicted itself. And since we obviously haven't lived through the foretold events, it could very well make perfect sense."

"_Forgotten horrors best left untouched," _Hunter said. "That actually does add up. No one alive remembers these things, aside from their creator. The drakon and the Venti. And yeah, I'd rather not touch them."

Nico opened his blazing eyes to glare at us. "I said to drop it."

"Sorry if I don't take orders from every random kid I meet," Hunter shot back.

"Yeah, well, I'm not a random kid. Can't tell you how much I wish I was, but I'm not. Trust me on this one."

Nico, asking us to trust him. The idea was still just as crazy as it'd been the first time.

"I wish," Brook sighed, "that we could just look all this up. Online."

"Monsters would track you," Nico growled.

"Well aware," Hunter muttered. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"

"I got thirty minutes," Nico said, moving one tense hand to Mνήμη's hilt. "Though I'm not doing much good here."

Hunter rolled her eyes and began to play with Anonymous's shaft.

Nico stood and stretched, making the bones in his back pop. Behind him was the opened window; his dark clothes blended in with the background until the great big snowflakes wandered past, momentarily showing his outline. His skin looked as white as the snow. "I'll see what Annabeth knows. I'm pretty sure she'll be able to help with something," he offered.

Hunter nodded. "That sounds good. See you tomorrow, I'm guessing?"

"Unless I get eaten by Kronos's favorite patron," Nico agreed, and vanished in a swirl of shadows.

I yawned and got to my own feet. "We positive there's no school tomorrow?"

"Positive," Brook agreed, "though for you? You've got private lessons."

"Ah, we're just breaking my mind tomorrow. It won't take much energy. I'm gonna stay up and work on my practice songs."

"You mean on the violin?" she asked, suddenly alive with energy. She wriggled much like Moon did when she was excited.

"Nope, I just click my tongue to different pitches," I muttered. "Yeah, the violin."

"I'll come listen!" she said, and together, we bolted out of the room and left Hunter amid her stacks of daddy memos.

oOo

"What are you doing?"

I turned, raising an eyebrow. "Well, hello to you, too."

Father snorted and pushed off the tree, striding forward confidently into the graveyard after me. His clothes litteraly flickered and shifted, blending in with the shadows he passed. Around his feet, the dead were peacefully still. Happily still. "Just a question."

"Well, I was planning for a lesson with Bree tomorrow," I said, patting the earth of the grave beside me. It was freshly upturned, but now back in place, though it shifted at my touch. "We're cramming what we can, like you asked."

I stared up at him, waiting. For what? For his comment? For a suggestion? He just stared at the bone I held in my hands, head cocked to one side.

Ever careful on unfamiliar ground, I said slowly, "...Are you going to tell me precisely why we're cramming now?"

He sighed, and I knew I wasn't going to get an answer by the way his eyes dodged to the side. "I told you; some new ideas came in, and I'm being cautious-"

"Father."

He looked down at me. Or up, it seemed, for though I was sitting his head was tilted down.

"I would like to know. This concerns me, too."

"Wars between immortals were never the business of humans."

"But I'm not human."

"There is so little difference. You die as easily as they do."

"You know," I snapped, "you could make an effort. To fix us."

"I have been trying, and you know that-"

"Not where it matters. Not when I ask you for help. Not when I try to help you. You push me away like I'm... Like I'm Zeus or something. And even him, you're starting to listen to now. Why can't you just tell me what's going on?"

He stared at his feet, shuffling them nervously. "...That's part of what I cannot tell you."

"There's _always _something you 'cannot do'," I spat, getting to my feet. I cradled the bone I held as I did, making sure it didn't so much as brush against the dirt or tombstones. Above us, the stars shone in a cold, forbodding way. "Honestly I should expect that by now. Sorry for offering a second chance."

He turned to look at the stars, too, a troubled expression on his face. The shadows of the trees fell across him and hid the details from my sight. "...Nico..."

"I don't understand what's so difficult about it," I muttered.

"No," he murmured. "You don't."

A tense silence settled between us.

"What do they know?" he asked eventually.

I sighed. "Nothing. They're as clueless as I am. Though they're inclined to believe the prophecy."

"And you're not?"

"I don't want to mess with it. I prefer solid ground beneath my feet."

"I see. All I can tell you is to be careful." He turned his head down to look at me again. "...So be careful."

"Got it," I muttered. "I wasn't going to ask Annabeth for the answers, anyway."

Because if I didn't trust him, it'd be my fault if our breaking alliance was shattered. Besides; he was controlling how much Bree and her sisters knew, too, and I wasn't about to interfere with that.

_Couldn't _interfere with that. It was too dangerous for us both.

"Did I ever tell you," he said, drawing my attention again, "that you look so much like your mother?"

The random note rendered me speechless.

"Just your eyebrows. The rest is mine. But it's enough," he said sadly. "It's enough."

And then he vanished into the shadows, leaving me with a dry throat and cumbersome tongue and the unspoken cry that it wouldn't ever be enough.

oOo

"Dude. I dare you to touch it."

There are a lot of funny stories starting with those words from Hunter. Today's? One of them.

"Y'all be careful!" Granny called from my doorway. "Don't step on it! You're 'lable to fall in and drown!"

We were clustered at my window, staring through the glass at the dazzling snow. Since the wind had blown toward the house on this side, it was higher here, and over half my window was dark due to the snow pressed against it. Kind of like a fish tank half-full, but with snow.

And we were on the second story.

Responding to Hunter's dare, I yanked on the lock to my window. It didn't budge.

"Don't open that," Granny argued. "The snow'll all fall in."

I took her advice and left it, settling for touching my finger to the glass where the snow was deepest on the other side.

Hunter snickered. "Chicken."

I sighed and tried to open the window from the top. Ah, there it went, creaking whining and protesting the whole way, but I got it to lower to the point just above the surface of the snow. I squeezed my arm out of the small space and laid a finger on the cold frost.

A smile broke acoss my face. "Dude. It's real."

Granny sighed. "I know, Bree. I know."

Hunter and Brook rolled their eyes and got in line to touch it.

"So when was the last time the snow was this high?" I asked, sitting on the bed. Sylvester, who had been deprived of his breakfast, was there and purring (slick little con cat).

She shook her head. "Years and years and years. Before I was born. Dare I say almost a century."

A wicked smile crossed Hunter's face. "The second story door," was all she said.

Then she and Brook dashed out and across the hall, yanking on the old, peeling slab of wood. Granny yelled something about being careful and ran after them.

"Meow," Sylvester sighed, flopping onto his back. His tail flicked back and forth sadly. I chuckled and rubbed his furry belly. At my touch, he leapt to his feet and bolted from the room.

Outside, the shadows twisted and bent in a familiar way.

Oh, right. I had my private lessons.

I ran to the window and shoved my head out of the small opening - it wasn't big enough to crawl through - and burst into hysterics. Nico was standing in the middle of the parking lot, feet spread wide, a horrified face staring down at the snow beneath him.

He caught my gaze and stared back, wide-eyed. "What is this?!" he yelped.

I laughed harder. "Snow!"

"This is why your school was off today," he muttered. He truly did look terrified. "What... Where to I go?"

"Towards the street, go around the house, and-"

He'd taken the first step before I finished. As soon as he put all his weight on one foot the snow began to shift, in small spurts at first but quickly elscalating into a full-out plunge. I watched in wonder as, with a panicked cry, my half-brother disappeared into fifteen feet of snow.

I laughed for a good two minutes before remembering that you could drown in snow.

My feet carried me through the hall and to the door Hunter was slamming into with her shoulder. Here, on the lee side of the house, only ten or eleven feet had fallen. I fell into step with her until on the third try, the door gave a great scream and burst open. The hallway was flooded with bright, shining light. It bounced and glittered off the snow like fallen stars.

Making sure to skid around on all fours, as spread out as I could be, I skittered around the house to where Nico had fallen in. The hole was just a ragged opening in the smooth, vast plain.

"Nico?" I called, leaning my head over.

Ten feet below, he lifted his head to scowl at me. He was dusted in white from head to toe. The hole had cast a dull, grey shadow over him so that his eyes glittered and shone like knives.

I stifled a laugh and smiled back. "Here, jump up and grab my hand. We got a second-story door around the house."

"You have a _second story door?"_

"Yep."

He glowered. "People shouldn't live in places like this. It's crazy. I hate your town."

I chuckled. "Can't imagine why."

oOo

"There has to be a reason for all this snow," Granny muttered, turning up the news.

They were talking about some grant in the mayor's office. I didn't think they were listening.

Beside me, Nico coughed. He'd been soaked when we got him inside. He was still shivering. I'd loaned him one of my band t-shirts and my one pair of straight-leg black jeans, which he wore now beneath the blanket Granny had insisted he huddle in for thirty minutes. Now, looking at his stack of clothes folded off to one side on a towel, I noticed next to Mνήμη was a sleek, long black case that could've held its replica. I pointed. "What is that?"

"Today's lesson," he muttered, pulling his legs against him and hugging his knees. The blanket hung forlornly over his shoulders. "You'll like it. But I'm not going back outside; we're doing it in here."

I stifled another laugh. He had that habit of grumpily pouting when the world was content to spite him. "Alright."

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. "You'll like it, though."

The news changed to a relapse of the drug gang story from the night before. The snow was piled up on the sidewalks and even on the river. I wondered if it was frozen beneath.

"So what did Annabeth know?" Hunter asked, speaking for the first time since offering him a hairdryer. Which he had quickly declined.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Little recordings have survived from that time; she doesn't have but the smallest little notes that there _were _past Ages."

Brook, who still sat on the floor, craned her neck back to look up at him. "Really? That's all? Even with Daedalus's laptop?"

"Daedalus was from the Forth Age, just as we are," Nico muttered. "And he was an inventor. He looked at the future, not the past."

"Fair enough," Hunter sighed. "Though that kinda sucks."

"So we still need to find out who was a big patron of Kronos, then?" Brook clarified.

We all nodded solemnly. We had met most of his patrons.

To break the silence, Nico stood, left the blanket behind on the couch, and grabbed Mνήμη and the lesson case. "Come on, Bree. Let's go to the back room to do this."

I frowned. "The study?" It was really just an extra room we had that wasn't really sure of its purpose, one of the side effects of renting two apartments. Two unpacked boxes were there, as well as desk, and our computer. It was quiet and at the edge of the house, making it the ideal place for ADHD and Dyslexic kids to do homework.

"Yeah, that. It's got room," he said, and walked off. His drying hair was in a bigger mess than it usually was, and plastered to his face and throat. I decided not to push his bad mood and followed obediently.

When we sat, cross-legged before each other in the study, he set the case between us. The door was shut. "Now, this is one of your powers that we haven't messed with much," he said. "You inherited shadows; I inherited the dead. It comes easily for me, and it might not for you, but you definitely have it. It's similar to the way you read your sword."

He popped open the case, revealing inside a human femur bone.

My eyes widened. "What-"

"I talked to him, don't worry. He's okay with it," Nico said, waving off my question. "Different power, but it's similar enough that it works as practice for reading Stygian iron recordings." His lips twitched and a strange light lit his eyes. "And I'm pretty sure it'll break any reluctance you have."

I wondered if he was just a little more off his rocker today. "Uh..."

"Don't give me that," he said. For the first time since I'd met him, I saw in the way he moved and in his eyes, that he was eager to start. That strange new light in his eyes burned hot as Vulcan's forges. He held his hand out to me, fingers twitching. "Let me show you."

It was the first time he was eager to show me something, too.

He stared at me, wide eyes almost pleading, begging me to want to be shown.

Tired of waiting, he grabbed my hand and placed it on the bone. I tensed, a little nervous, but it was fine - smooth, for the most part. He hadn't picked an old one. He guided my hand up and down, stroking its length. Like it was a pet of some sort.

"He likes you," Nico murmured, looking up at me. "Can you feel that?"

I shook my head.

"You're not listening. That's what we're here to fix," he said. He stroked the bone with his own hand, fingers dancing, finding every crack and crevice. "Time to break your mind."

oOo

**Nyx: Yeah so sorry this is a few hours late. I had it done, but I got up late 'cause it was movie night last night.**

**Nic: What movie?**

**Nyx: It was about zombiez, of course. Anyway, here it is. I expected more to be in this one, but... Eh. I liked it. A small, calm, humorous break. Yet still with important stuff like Hades/Nico conversations. The next chapter will be even better. It will be called "Go," if you didn't get the name of this one.**

**Nic: Poll is still up, if you're interested. The new one on HoH's cover.**

**Nyx: And of course, please review! We love to hear our readers' feedback. Don't be afraid to speak up (if after Rebels you're still shy about that...). Tell us anything. We will read even flames, though pointless insults tend to be very provocative with us.**

**Nic: And you're implying exactly what about me?**

**Nyx: Heheh nothing. Anyway, I have a busy weekend, so I must go. I'll see you all Monday! And until then, may the odds be ever in your favor!**

**Nic: Wrong series.**

**Nyx: Oh shush they'll get it. Sorry for being excited about the next movie.**


	12. Go

**DISCLAIMER: Nyx's real name is not Rick and Nic's is not Riordan, nor vice versa, so we don't own PJatO or HoO. Nor will you ever know our real names.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**thranduillon - :3**

oOo

"It's a lot like your sword. Feel it."

I closed my eyes and opened my mind, as if ready to read Intuneric's recordings. A simple note that I was here and waiting, waiting for it to start.

A low hum ran through my fingers.

My eyes flew open. "It's vibrating."

"That it is. It means he likes you," Nico said.

"He... This isn't a _person _we're refering to, is it...?"

"A deceased person, yes. Why don't you introduce yourself?"

I stared at him, now thoroughly concerned he was in the midst of a crazy fit. Maybe the dip in the snow and the resulting bad mood had tipped him over. "How..."

"It's all mental. I told you, there's a mental side to everything, especially magic; especially _our _magic. Spirits don't exactly have bodies to communicate with."

Well, he had a point there.

So I closed my eyes and listened again, feeling the bone vibrate beneath my hands. It wasn't alarming like a phone, or a warning like a diamondback's rattle, but... inviting. Warm, almost.

_...Hello?_ I thought to myself.

"No, try harder. You have to speak _to_ him, not _at _him."

The memories I was searching for weren't there, though, and when I tried three more times, I found no response.

I took my hand away and stared at Nico. "...I don't..."

"You do. You just don't understand. Look here; this was his. It was his grave's. You can use it to contact a spirit long-distance, like a mental link across the country. He is there. He's listening. Do you believe that?"

I wasn't so sure.

"There's your problem. But after today, it'll be gone." He gently, as if it were made of glass, held the femur out to me again. "Give it another try."

Five tries later, he was beginning to get annoyed.

"Bree, he's calling you. Confused now, too. You're being very mean to him."

"Maybe if you told me his name-"

"No, you're going to ask it of him yourself. Listen; it's just like opening the memories. But in order to do that, you have to open your own mind. He's there. You felt the bone vibrating. You have to reach out to him, though, because it's a two-way connection. Really try. What if it was someone who needed you?"

I was about to ask him what dead person needed me, then realized I'd met one before, and that he probably met them all the time.

A sigh forced itself between my lips. "...Okay. I'll try again."

Because what if it was like the Hecate kid. What if it was Ethan.

My hand ran down its length again, and I listened, willing a word to be heard. For things to come clear. Nico's insistence in this, Intuneric's recordings, the prophecy, even the snowstorms. That wish for things to be revealed. I bottled it up like I'd collect shadows in my palm and, almost like firing the shadows, pushed it to the front of my mind... And out...

I honestly wanted to see if this was real or not.

And then, only then, the memories cracked open.

Only it wasn't memories. This wasn't Intuneric. Like snow melting away to show damp green grass beneath, like a school of fish bursting from the surface of water, like light flooding the attic and included boxes of memories you'd long forgotten, like discovering the hidden grove in the woods you'd been scared of all your life, like hearing the right song at the right time, the whole world opened.

Sensations and feelings I never knew were possible burst into reality. It was a total maelstrom for a moment - there was the tingling sensation of a fresh new taste, whispers of shadows, excitement, sheer recognition, the memory of a warning, anticipiation I hadn't felt in years...

And then it calmed rather suddenly. The thoughts weren't mine; I watched as they took on a confusing pattern like it was a path back to reason. At last they calmed down to a bleak sea, currents hidden beneath a cool, level, shimmering surface, and I could no longer read them so easily.

Then one thought surfaced. No, not a thought - a carefully controlled meaning, twisted and compacted into a simple English word.

_Hello._

It was amazing. The surface of the sea was smooth but curved, like a ball. I stood in its center. Surrounding me was - I don't know - that sea of starlight. It shone. It burned a bit. It tasted like sugared water. It twisted and moved - alive - made of thoughts, twisting, and one surfaced again when I didn't answer, but now outlined with confusion-

_...Hello?_

The word bloomed brilliantly into existence. Its sound was reveled in. The letters, recalled from a long-ago text, flashed and arranged themselves. The message was printed firmly in my conscious.

I struggled to pull myself together while marveling at the works of a mind. My lips didn't move, but I found what I needed; the answer, worked with it, played and shaped it until I had words like the starlight sea did. _Hi. My name is Bree._

Somewhere - was it from him, or from me? - happiness swelled in my chest. Joy at touching another mind. _Bree. Ghost King said you'd come, but he did not say your name._

_ Ghost King. Is that Nico?_

_ I do not use that designation. I say Ghost King._ Things flashed before my closed eyes, tinged with the silver starlight - heat, great heat, screaming of one still breathing. The light, calming touch of a tightly controlled mind. My panicked thoughts thrown at it just vanished, sinking into his mind and out of my sight, every last thought and sensation of his locked away. And then he spoke to me, soft words, the thrill of talking to someone after so long. Of sharing my troubles. I couldn't remember how it felt to talk to another...

...The ghost's mind snapped back into that smooth, shimmering surface. The air I breathed was ice-cold in his presence. _He said he would help me, and I offered a favor in return. This is the favor. He asked me to talk to another living person. He said Living Person would be nice. Bree is Living Person._

_ I guess. What's your name?_

_ Shane, I think it was. I remember the sound her saying it sometimes._

The silver sea tightened, holding things back.

_Her?_ I asked.

I was answered with more images, more feelings. The silver was tainted - confused, bewildered. The memory of having a body to be anchored in were always odd. Heavy, but dull, not so raw, able to touch without being burned. To be carressed, even, as she did so often. Warm touch of skin on skin. Sound, sound - strangely embodied as well. Whispers of her voice and the light, dancing brush of her breath on my ear. A finger on my forehead as she pulled my hair aside. Crimson lips and bright amber eyes. Brown hair. Then the memories grew darker, dread flooding every corner of sight and touch and sound and taste and even smell - perfume of wilted flowers, the glint of something sharp-

-And the memories cut off again, wrestled back into the sea. It was boiling with excitement now. _Her. I have forgotten her name; I think it scared me to recall it. So I forgot. Do you have a Her?_

_ No one I share a romantic relationship with,_ I reasoned, _but I have sisters._

_Sisters! I can't remember mine. All I remember is her. Tell me of your sisters._ Marvel escaped him - a wonderous feeling, total awe. Sisters. What it must've been to have them; Bree sounded so happy as she said the word...

Rather than giving him the names, I drew my mind back to itself and recalled the memories, and then showed them. Communication, meanings, concepts, felt weird bottled into words when sharing things like this. So I gave it his way; I showed him images. Memories.

The scent of orange cream, caramel hair, brilliant golden eyes, a wide white smirk. The memories were so sweet they ached. She was naught but twelve there; back when we thought we were human. She was pushing a bucket full of shaving cream to the top of a cracked door and talking about the next person to pushed that door open...

Comfort. Just comfort. Maybe a little bit of safety. Sensations I had connected to her in those sleepless, horror-filled nights when I was little.

Anonymous. The flashing scythe she danced around, perfectly in step with me. We were insperable in the moments that mattered most. More alive when we were nearly dead. Closer in the very moments death could use to rip us apart. Not a single fiber of me regretting it.

His answer was wonder. The memories replayed themselves between us, their colors slightly altered, new angles, new distances between the things in the images, new things highlighted - the clock on the nightstand, how funny it looked, and the way her voice scraped like two kinves against one another when she was angry. All things Shane took interest in.

Don't ask me what compelled me to share so much with him. There is no word for it. But if you touched my mind like he did, if you'd communicate with me in that way, I could show it to you.

Shane abandoned all words now and sent a series of abstract sensations my way. Excitment and the taste of a new mind; a memory of a controlled voice _...but I have sisters_; a reapeat of the word _sisters_; polite curiosity.

I went back to words, careful now. But I did show him my protective instincts. _...Yeah, I said sisters. Plural. There is another. ...You want to see her?_

Another spike of curiosity, very sharp now that he knew she was so well guarded. Why?

I didn't answer that but merely found the image of Brook and displayed it. I'd chosen one from our training days with Ethan, the wide smile on her face, brown-red curls shimmering, hands raised in the air and mouth yawning open in a cheer. The moment she'd made the first bulls-eye with her bow.

Appreciation flashed between Shane and I. A repeat of the image. Then another of so-called 'Her'. At my confusion, he found the English word and plucked it from his memories. _Pretty._

My resulted unease made him retreat. Tentative worry showed, along with fear - no, no, he hadn't meant to upset me. He begged me not to go.

_I won't._ The idea of abandoning him, after feeling his fear of it, was impossible. I didn't want to leave this shining sea, these new memories, anyway. _I'll stay._

The words dimmed the bright sea. I vanished to him. Memories and sensations roiled by uncaged, another great storm, thundering against both him and I-

-_I'll stay,_ she says, breath in my ear like it is every time the sweetest bits of her surface. Muscles pull on my face - a smile - and I don't remember what I said back. Maybe her name was it in, but it's lost. It pains me to leave her, even here in this safe home I've learned to trust, for the smallest moment. But I'll be back.

She doesn't stay.

I see her next in the kitchen as I'm heading out the back door. My first thought is that she's come to kiss me goodbye again. But something in her is different. Amber eyes, once the warm coals of a fire, have died and turned cold. Her perfume smells of wilted flowers. She moves like a cat in that favorite purple shirt of hers, melding from the shadows and flowing to the counter, her eyes on me. Before I can take another step, she has drawn a knife from its place with the others.

Confusion. I do not understand why, but I think I know what she's doing.

The glint of a sharp weapon makes me uneasy even around her. I ask why she has the knife and back away, away from it and from her, but by moving to the counter she has cut off both my exits. This is no accident. My heart pounds in my chest faster than a spooked horse's hooves on the ground.

As she steps forward, I wonder once more, as I have for nearly my whole life, what the small tattoo on her wrist means. A little side note. For some reason, it pains me.

And then there is agony; death was fast but it hurt, and it still burns, it replays and replays and replays in my mind until everything else is gone, gone, gone. The urge to know why forces itself on me like a dozen branding irons. It replays again, again, the burn worsens - all I want is for this to stop, but I have to know why - I will be stuck here forever, I know it, lost in what she did - the memory scalds me each time, but I have no way to express it - I sit here and take it, take it, take it, burn and burn and burn, and time falls away. The burn fills its empty space...

...Rather abruptly, I was back with the starlight sphere, staring at smooth, controlled edges. The memories vanished - yet in my own mind they swirled angrily. They were memories from life and death and made no sense to me. They just hurt. I knew that. I would never forget the way the burn felt - you could light me on fire and it wouldn't hold a candle to what Shane had felt.

Slowly, he spoke again, English words half-formed and muddled. _Was told... Not to show Bree that._

_ It's okay,_ I managed, and showed him how it had began. A slip of mind. It hadn't been on purpose. The burn echoed in my mind, unshakable.

The storm begain to boil around me again. _But it is true. That is what happened - _total confusion for a moment, saddness, horror - _every memory-_

_ Shush!_ I throw the word at him with all I have. He quiets himself quickly. _It's okay. What do you do when you start thinking about it?_

_ I let it burn._

_ No, when you're communicating with Ghost King._

_ He asked to see it._

_ And afterwards?_

There was silence for a moment. Then he spoke slowly, things that would've made more sense in thought and memory, but words were all he gave. _He found a memory in me. He gave it to me and said not to forget it. I like to remember it a lot._

Well, here was news. _And what's this memory?_

_Landscapes. My father was an artist. He painted landscapes._ Images burst free; pastel colors and light paints, soft green beneath a wide blue sky and clouds that looked like cotton balls raked and torn through the air. The light filtering through leaves on the trees. The forest, in all its glory, many dark trees and splashes of light and a pair of eyes hiding behind that fallen log. A grand field of snow. A desert. The ocean, small waves cropped up by the wind.

The horrible remnants of the burn vanished. Rubbed away in the grass and burned off in the light and lost in the forest and washed clean in the snow and forced off by dunes of sand and pulled far, far away by the wind.

That horrible burn that'd had us both lost and wailing disappeared in an instant. He banished it with those pictures. The images shone with pride; these were his favorite memories.

The silver starlight ocean sat there with me, at first waiting for an answer, and then surprisingly content when it got none. Happy just to be here. Letting me think. That was enough for him.

_...I had no idea..._

My own shock, foreign from his mind, was shot back at me. It was tinged with mirth.

We talked about little things after that. And about the landscapes. Always the landscapes, picking out favorites, remembering how it might've felt to stand in those scenes, marveling in the amazing picture. Eventually, one thought crossed my mind that I didn't mean to show him, but he saw it.

_I don't know what the Underworld looks like,_ he said. _I have never been._

_ ...What?_ My own shock went spiraling out.

_You saw what she did. Her. This sounds like something out of a scary campfire story, but it traps me here. In this house. My grave, if I want to be there and away from people, which is often. I don't know how to find my way. I am just lost. This is my afterlife._

_ No, no, that can't be right! Of course you could go if..._

_ No ifs. I can't. I've tried, but I am lost. Stuck here._

_ With those horrible memories?_

_ Yep. With my memories._ He sent me the image of the house, not as he saw it then but as it was when he'd rented it, shining and new and proud up on its hill.

_This is why you weren't supposed to show me Her, isn't it?_

_ Maybe. I don't know. I thought it was because Ghost King likes his work to remain secret. Between him and each ghost. He said he'd help me find my way; apparently he has experience with that before._

Silence. I wasn't sure how to take all this new information about Nico.

But as far as Shane, I was in awe. Still amazed at how he'd conqured the fire. That he'd lasted so long. Years, I could tell. The memories of his life, the touch of his mind, every bit of it was breathtaking. Surrounded by the starlight ocean, it seemed he was the whole world.

_I must go,_ he said, interrupting me.

Shock. Denial. _Why? I like talking to you._

Sad happiness moved inside him. _I know. But we have talked for too long. Besides, someone is up - I need to get out of this chair I'm hiding in and hide at my grave instead. I don't bother the people in my house. Goodbye, Bree._

_ Shane, wait._

_ I can't. How old are you? Thirteen, I saw? Surely you've said goodbye before._

_ Exactly. And I never saw some of those people again._ Ethan's face flashed between us, outlined with my pain.

_Bree, I cannot stay. Goodbye._

_ ...Goodbye, Shane._

I felt him retreat. Unable to feel him disconnect first, I hastily withdrew, recalling the study and the bone and Nico in front of me. I cut off my thoughts and then he was gone, and I was sitting there, cross-legged, on the carpet with a bone in my lap.

Shaking, I opened my eyes. Nico was staring at me. I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn't work.

"Yeah," he said. Grunting, he stood, and grabbed the box of tissues from the desk. He gave them to me and took his place again.

I stared at them for a long while before realizing my nose was clogged. Tentatively, I touched my cheeks. Sure enough, they were slick with tears.

"I..." I managed, wiping them. "...That was amazing."

"Isn't it? The first time I did that, it was accidental; I knew it was possible but didn't keep my mind sealed shut, and a spirit's thoughts kinda found their way in. Scared us both to death. Or... Ach, you get what I mean."

"Shane. He's trapped here. Up here. You said you'd help him."

"...That I did. Did he show you that?"

"Yeah," I said, fighting back a sob.

"That's a lesson for another day. All I meant was for you two to talk. Thought it'd help you both. You know, with him being trapped."

I was speechless again, thinking. I remembered the landscapes. And I remembered the nameless Hecate kid from so long ago. That's right; a spirit at peace was not to be messed with. Only the troubled ones could be talked to. And then, only the ones you hadn't known in life.

"I didn't know all this was possible," I murmured. "I see why Kronos wanted to keep me in the dark."

"There's a lot possible," Nico said. He was talking fast. "There's spirits at graveyards and summoning and the ones in the Underworld - you'd like to see the ones in Asphodel, I think - and the ones in Universal Studios waiting to get on the ferry who can't remember anything. Shane'll be there one day. Imagine that."

I stared at him. He kept going. I'd never heard him talk this much.

"What I like best about talking to them is the way it's so humbling. You're not everything in this world. You get to see it again through new eyes, and you learn each time. And every time, you're so insignificant. Don't you think?"

The sphere of starlight came to mind, me trapped inside, every memory I hadn't known posible. "...Yeah. Definitely."

We sat in silence then, listening to the birds argue outside. The silent burn in his eyes was still there. As the birds screamed I realized something; he truly, honestly loved this. I could see it in the way he held the bone and the look in his eyes and the way he talked about it. Totally loved this.

And he'd never been able to share it with anyone. Mention it, and he'd get weird looks. People would just walk away. They'd think... They'd think he was crazy. Which he was, but not the way people thought. Even if they listened, they'd never know. There were no words for something like this; they would never understand.

Until now.

He had closed his eyes, lost in thought, one absent-minded hand playing with the bone's edge. Behind him, a familiar dark bird flashed by the window in my mind's eye.

"Did I ever apologize?" I burst.

He opened his eyes. Confusion swam in them. "For what?"

"For invading your mind last year. You looked pretty as a raven."

"Oh. No, I don't think so, but I wasn't waiting for one." He looked at me, then the bone, still lost in his mind. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes, I'm sure! I just told you that," he muttered, looking away. "Besides, Phil would get mad if I held it against you."

Oh, geez. Phil again. The real Nico was back.

"So, what now?" I asked. "Reading the sword, right?"

He shook his head, letting his wet hair flop around - wet hair? I thought Shane and I had conversed long enough for it to dry - and took the bone back to himself. As he set it in the case he said, "I think we've done enough reading today. Control practice with the shadows, maybe?"

I nodded. "That sounds alright."

He set the case aside and called the shadow of the storage boxes to his hand, stretching them between his fingers like a small child playing with putty.

oOo

**Nyx: Okay so yeah I got up on time today, but due to mentioned busy weekend, I spent that time finishing this chapter. I expected it to be kinda long, and knew I wasn't goign to fit everything I wanted into it, but the mood it makes is important enough that I got to drag it on like that without feeling guilty.**

**Nic: Aaaw Nico's so cute sometimes. When I don't want to kill him.**

**Nyx: Anyway, this chapter and the next one - maybe even just part of it - kind of start something. Hence the name. You'll see as we move on.**

**Nic: Seriously. Who else feels the urge to put a knife through his ribs?**

**Nyx: Nobody feels that urge as long as I'm alive.**

**Nic: I do.**

**Nyx: *ignoring that* The poll is still up and yada yada yada. Next chapter, as always, will be up on Thursday. In the meantime, please review! Click that little button down there! It's like a little trapped ghost.**

**Nic: I'm talking to you.**

**Nyx: Speaking of ghosts, I got one on speed dial whom I might call should anything happen to Nico...**

**Nic: LEAVE ETHAN OUT OF THIS!**


	13. The Perks of Personified

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own PJatO.**

oOo

"Bree, Nico! Lunch is ready!"

I rolled off my back and to my feet, stretching my arms above my head until my shoulders popped. "Lunch? I could've sworn Shane and I talked for hours. And we've been practicing for another."

"Mental notes move as fast as shadows," Nico provided, shaking the shadows from his hand. He left the blanket behind and grabbed the case holding Shane's femur. The thought, for the first time, weirded me out just the slightest. It was easier to think of the bone before I'd known Shane at all. Now?

"Guys, hurry up," Brook called, "or I'll eat yours!"

"Run," I advised Nico as I dodged the storage boxes and dashed for the kitchen. He followed on my heels.

Luckily, our sloppy-joes were unharmed.

I grabbed one and poured some chips onto the paper plate beside it, then headed to the dining room. Brook was already halfway through hers. As Granny was still watching the news, she had dismissed her table manners and was tearing into it similar to the way her wolves would ravage a freshly killed squirrel. Speaking of such, there Moon was, lying on the floor beneath Brook's chair. She looked forlorn. And, from the licking of her lips, hungry.

"You might want to feed that thing," I advised.

"She's already eaten," Brook said after swallowing a mouthful of sloppy-joe. "She's just pouting 'cause I won't encourage her drakon-sized ego by giving her dessert."

Hunter, who of course had been the first to get to the food, was just about finished with her sandwich already. "So she wants a treat, basically."

"No. Treats are for dogs, not wolves. She wants a feast," Brook chuckled.

I took my place beside Hunter and Nico beside Brook, him leaning Shane's case aganist his chair. Lunch was eaten in relative silence - one, Nico was here, and two, we were eating. Brook and Hunter talked for a minute or two about going through Kronos's books again to find any other monsters belonging to his patrons. Every time Nico wound up in my gaze, I blushed and looked down, my mind filled with the dazzling memories from my conversation with Shane. The wonder. The feelings exchanged between us. The pain he was in.

Needing a second opinion on all this, I glanced to my right, and then wondered if I would bring up such a detailed conversation with Nico. Probably. We did that in training sometimes. But he'd already given me his thoughts and honestly I didn't think today was the best day for that conversation. He was to be teaching me more, anyway, so I'd do best to just wait safely for the answers.

By the time I pulled myself from my thoughts, Hunter and Brook were conversing again, and Nico had finished his food and was patiently listening, waiting for me. "-Show it to them."

"Show us what?" I asked.

Hunter shrugged. "The roof. I cleared off a corner of snow up there so we could train outside. I even managed to leave more snow on the bottom, so there's no slant anymore. Figured it might be easier for all of us. Kinda cramped in this small house."

"That sounds great," I said, remembering the study and the storage boxes. Nico, of course, was muttering something about snow.

I turned to him. "We could go out there and work on the Stygian iron summoning again. Maybe if you can get that, we'll try the blood trick with a small animal. Maybe a bird. It's a tiring spell, so we shouldn't try too big, as much as I hate what I just said."

That, of course, was enough to pacify him. It was decided; we were going back outside.

oOo

"It won't work."

"Just focus on the points, like I told you."

"No, I got that, but it won't... Rise."

"Of course it will. Just give it a little push; the snow's got to be heavy."

"Bree, I don't think the snow can fight us on a magical level," Nico argued, flexing his tense hand once more. The Stygian iron slab refused to appear.

"No, but it's got to be putting pressure on the ground," I said, "and that could be what's stopping you."

"Maybe, but I don't think - oh, here it comes." Sure enough, seconds later, the slab of Stygian iron peeked out above the snow. I bit my tongue and struggled not to laugh.

"Okay, so it still doesn't look like a chess board," he muttered. "At least I got it up here." With a flick of his wrist, he let it sink back down.

I sighed and opened my head, trying to form the image of another example slide in my mind. I got halfway through the construction of my polka-dot pattern when my concentration was shattered.

And ear-splitting howl, a pure and loud note, rang through the still air. I flinched and covered my ears. Even then, I could feel it tickle my chest. It went on for a solid sixty seconds before stopping.

Nico scowled and whipped around. "Tell your dog to quit that."

"One, she's not a dog, and two, I told her to do it. We're devising signals and code for when we're in a fight. She's Pack Leader now - I can communicate with the whole pack at once through her, and it's important that I do," Brook shot back, totally unfazed.

"Oh, that's what that totaly takeover was last night," I said, getting to my feet. I didn't like sitting at the edge of the roof, anyway. I knew the snow would break any fall, but it was ten feet down from here, and the thought made me dizzy. "I thought she was good at rallying the others."

"That's what earned her the position," Brook said, "though she still answers to me. It's a great improvement for both of us. I think, next time, we stand a lot better chance in a fight. Like, kill-a-drakon chance."

"I wouldn't push it that far," Hunter said, raising an eyebrow at Moon. "But I like this, I think."

"So the dog howls," Nico scowled, a little peeved that I walked off. But he knew better than to get between Brook and I. "Can't you work on hand signals or something?"

"Howls work fine and, obviously, aren't easily missed," Brook said as she gave him a mockingly sweet smile. "You guys ought to learn our signals, too."

"We already speak English," Nico muttered, "which is the language she takes orders in."

"Well, I happen to speak wolf, so that's not true. And you need to learn her signals. You know, so you don't trip over each other every time a hellhound comes your way." She flipped her hair to one side while Nico grit his teeth.

Hunter shrugged. "He has a point, though. Until you get your singals entirely figured out, there's no need for us to learn anything."

Brook sighed. "I guess..."

"See, watch this. Moon, sit!"

The small wolf flicked her ears but, obediently, sat.

"Hunter, she doesn't do tricks," Brook warned. "And she knows when she's being humiliated like that."

Hunter ignored her. "Roll over."

Moon gave her a puzzled look but laid down on her back with her legs bent up above her. Her head turned, trailing in the snow, waiting for the next command. But her yellow eyes glittered with suspicion.

"Jump," Hunter said. Fast as lightning, the wolf was on her feet and launching into the air, snapping her jaws shut with an audible _snap._ When she landed, she glared at Hunter and growled.

"Told you," Brook chuckled.

"Dogs can't jump that high; therefore, I'm not degrading her," Hunter argued. "Moon, speak."

The silver wolf cocked her head to one side. "Moon speak what?"

I jumped, so shocked I nearly twisted my ankle when I landed. Nico, of course, slipped on the snow and crashed face-first into the frost. Hunter's eyes merely widened.

Brook (curse the way she learns from Hunter), was laughing.

"Surprise!" she managed between hysterics, bent over. She was laughing so hard, she began to snort. "Your... faces..."

"_Surprise?"_ Nico snarled, spitting snow from his mouth as he got to his hands and knees. "The dog _talks?"_

"Wolf," Moon snapped at him. Her voice was strained and high-pitched, clearly not human, but she definitely spoke. In English. "Moon is _wolf."_

Well, kind-of-English.

"Dude," Hunter said. "How long has this been going on?"

"For a while," Brook said, at last containing herself to just a wide smile. "It's a simple spell I figured out. It gives her the ability, but to learn it - that's all her. She's still working on it."

"Mistress helps, though," Moon said. She flattened her ears and bumped her head against Brook's hand. "Moon listening at Mistress's speaks. Moon learns."

Brook smiled and patted her shoulder. "I told you to call me Brook."

"Moon favored Mistress," the wolf explained. Her long pink tongue fell out of her mouth and pounced as she began to pant, long fangs gleaming in the afternoon sun. She wriggled excitedly.

"Cool," Hunter said, walking up to her. She sat so she was eye-level with the wolf and waved me forward to do the same. "So, what else has Moon favored?"

"Golden Eyes," Moon said firmly, sitting down facing her. "Moon and Mistress favoring Golden Eyes."

"Me?" Hunter guessed.

"Golden Eyes," Moon confirmed, nodding.

"You hear that, guys?" Hunter asked, turning to raise a smug eyebrow at Nico and I. "I'm _favored."_

"Yeah. By a dog," Nico clarified. "I'm going to make sure the snow isn't melting into the lesson case." He happily turned and walked away.

Moon flicked her tail and narrowed her yellow eyes at his back. "Moon knows. Moon knows Death Child omen."

I frowned. "Death Child?"

"...That's what she calls you and Nico," Brook said tentatively. "I keep telling her you're not bad omens, but..." She shrugged helplessly.

"Death Child. All Death meaning bad omen-warnings," Moon said firmly.

"Moon, leave him alone. He doesn't want to be messed with," Brook said.

Moon snorted. "He annoying is the burr in the furr-like."

Hunter giggled. "True, that, very true..."

Nico rolled his eyes. "Oh, _I'm _annoying?"

"Burr in the furr like," Moon agreed, snapping her teeth tauntingly at him. "Just bad omen feeling bad mood in."

"You wanna _see _a bad omen?" Nico muttered. "I could show you one." He pulled Shane's femur from the case, examining it.

"Guys," Brook sighed. "We need to get back to training, anyway."

Moon's ears perked up, and she forgot all about Nico. "Traning signals for?" Her eyes bugged and she squirmed excitedly, like a child about to recieve a toy. Her pink tongue rolled out from between her teeth and bounced happily.

Brook smiled. "Training signals for," she agreed.

Moon barked happily and leapt up in the air, bouncing on all four paws and letting loose a flurry of thrilled yips. She circled around Brook eagerly.

I laughed and stood, dusting the snow off my pants and waving as I walked back to Nico. He was still holding the bone, examining it.

"Uh-oh," I said. "Did the water leak in?"

"It got into the case, but the bone's dry," Nico said, examining a specific crevice.

"I can hold it while you practice," I said, holding out my hand. "I'll keep it safe."

"No. I'll hold it," he said, stepping back and holding it against him. "I'm sure you would, but it's my responsibility."

"Alright. ...You want to go back inside?"

"And get away from that loudmouth?" he asked, nodding towards Moon.

I glared.

"I can't concentrate when she's talking," he simplified.

"Well, neither can I, but you could be _nice._ It's not neccessary to hate every new person you meet, Nico."

"Yes it is," he grouched. He glanced at the edge of the roof. "...How are we supposed to get down?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe..."

I trailed off as he looked down with wide eyes. "Hey! Stop that!"

My gaze followed his. Moon was sitting at his feet, staring up at Shane's femur with wide yellow eyes. "No," she said.

He sighed and turned, marching to the edge of the roof. "Snow, talking wolves..."

"Stygian iron fail," I added.

"And Stygian iron fail," he muttered. "Yeah."

I poked his shoulder, frustrated. "Hey."

He looked up at me expectantly.

"You're in a bad mood. It's bumming me out. Quit it."

He sighed and sat down, staring at the snow beneath us. "I know. I'm sorry. I've just... Had my mind occupied by a lot."

"Such as?"

He looked up and stared at me, lips pressed tight.

"Fine. Don't talk about it. I understand. Just don't complain when that turns out to have made it worse; because trust me, staying silent can end like that."

He seemed to know what I meant. Yet silent he stayed.

Looking for something to cheer him up, I recalled his wonder earlier, and pointed to Shane's femur. "So what's going to happen to him?"

"Between training with you and trying to figure out this before-the-gods mess, I'll help him like I said. I don't think it'll take long."

"...You've done this before?"

"All the time. I know it's kind of a big deal for you, but for me, Shane is just another job. I help spirits, I hunt down demons, I investigate escapes, I stay alive - I got lots of jobs I do daily. I know how to handle this." He patted the bone happily.

"...Oh. I had no idea."

"Well, I don't exactly talk about my personal life much," Nico shrugged. "So do you think it helped? That you can read your sword now?"

I thought about that for a moment. The wonder I felt. The fact that I already read my sword. The fact that there was so little to begin with.

I gave him the honest answer. "I don't know."

He looked down at my hands and, to my surprise, took one. He held it up between us and spread my fingers out like a fan. "We'll figure it out. I know it's possible." Then he pressed his hand, fingers also stretched, against mine. The skull ring on his middle finger - he had moved it there out of annoyance for the way it slipped on his thinner ring finger - was cold and reassuring. His skin was warm. "There aren't exactly many of us left, people like us. Children of the Underworld. But in all the records I've dug up, things were better that way. We were separated and we were few. But we were smart. We knew things no one else knew. We have the secrets to history locked away in places no one else will find. This hands are the keys. We're the last of a whole world - of secrets, of a culture, of a story bigger than you or I or Shane or any individual ghost we talk to. Surely, the demigod overthrew Kronos can overthrow her reluctance to discover all that."

I was speechless. I knew what he was saying. But it felt wrong. It felt like I'd swallowed a fuzzy ball. One, I wasn't free to discover all that. I was locked away. I was an outcast. I was a reject. And I wasn't even a demigod. None of that applied to me. Two... I wasn't sure I wanted to learn about that culture. About that war.

It's not that I couldn't overthrow my reluctance. It's that I wouldn't.

Before I could find the right lie to give him, he jumped and yanked his hand away, shock flashing across his features. His hand slammed back down onto the bone firmly and flicked it, like it was a small rod.

Moon, who had been inches away from stealing it, yelped as it smacked her in the head. She whirled and scrambled back for Brook. The small brunett scolded her - she'd deserved it, she knew the bone wasn't hers...

I laughed. "Got to keep your eye on that one."

"More than an eye, if you ask me. I think I've got handcuffs somewhere in my pockets..." he mused.

"The burr in the furr!" Moon yelled at him angrily.

"Like a weed on my grave!" he shot back. She sniffed and turned away.

Another laugh found my lips. "You two are so similar."

He didn't seem to hear. Instead, he pulled the bone closer and murmured, "I think I should go home early today. I need to talk to Father about something."

"Oh... Okay. Bye, then. Tell Shane I said hi."

He glanced at me then. Or, he planned to. Glance and look away. But I saw the way his eyes locked and held their place. In those eyes, to my utter dismay, I saw his traditional hate. It glistened like blood splattered across the pure green grass.

Not for the first time, I wondered if it was wise to talk with him at all.

"Bye," he said, and pushed himself off the roof. His form disappeared into the shadow of the house, feet from the snow beneath.

I stared after him for a while before standing and dusting off my pants. The sight of my sisters banished the unease from my mind; they were here, they were solid, they weren't mysterious, and they _definitely _weren't in a bad mood.

"Mistress says bone for Moon not!" Moon howled, staring at me with wide eyes.

I shrugged and held out my empty hands, a smile gracing my face. "She's right. I don't have it, anyway."

"You know, I was wondering what he had in that case," Hunter chuckled. "What'd you do?"

"Talked to a dead person," I said. The memories came back, filled with all the amazement I'd lost myself in at the time. "It was _amazing."_

"He seemed to be in a good mood," she said. "I'm guessing he liked it too?"

"Loves it," I said, confused now. He'd been in a horrible mood.

She shrugged. "Huh. I wonder if he'd mind teaching me a few things. Anyway, I've got to go search those books for other mentions of Kronos's patron. Brook, you coming?"

Brook smiled at her. "You meant now? ...I've got to finish up here with Moon."

"Oh. That's alright," Hunter said. "I can go through them alone. You know, time-touch and all."

"You don't have to," I said. "I'll..."

I trailed off as she raised an eyebrow at me. "You. Read Kronos's work? With me?"

The thought stumped me for just a second. Huh. It did seem a little odd when I thought about it.

Thing is, you just don't think about some things. You feel.

"Sure. Who else would I read it with? I needed to practice my Ancient Greek, anyway."

She smiled hugely and ran for the edge of the roof, waving me to follow, and grabbed my hand. Not a word was spoken as we leapt down and raced in the door, taking comfort on one another's presence and nothing more.

oOo

**Nyx: OKAY! OKAY! Let me explain. There are literally over twenty versions of this chapter. This was the latest and the best one. That is why this is late. That, and I might've made it harder for myself by watching the trailers for a horror book, and clearly, these are not horror scenes.**

**Nic: How long have you been planning this scene?**

**Nyx: Ages. It's one of my favorites. But I don't like the way it turned out. I may go back and do some editing later. But I'm in a big rush now and have to go. SO SO SO SORRY it's late, guys! Please review! Tell us what you thought of Moon. See you all later!**

**Nic: Bye! ... ... "A weed on my grave"? Really?**

**Nyx: Oh shush! It's called dialect!**


	14. Self Discipline

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own PJatO or HoO. They belong to Rick Riordan.**

oOo

_And what the hell was that? _I asked myself.

Shane, who could sense the general mood of my thoughts through the bone I still held, sent confusion my way. I gave him my intent to ignore him for the moment; he understood and withdrew quickly.

I sighed and set it down on my blanket so that it wouldn't touch the dirt. My small bag of things - spare clothes, a store of bandages and nectar, things I couldn't fit in my pockets but was grateful to have - was slumped next to it. Beyond them, out of the light of the fire - trees, dark forest, sinister leaves and shadows hiding things not so friendly. If I had a choice, there would be no fire. There was no faster way to kill night vision. But I was alive and I was part human and I needed the warmth. So I settled down in a crouch in the dirt beside it and closed my eyes, content to replace sight with sound. Yet I heard naught but the whisper of the trees; I was safe here for the moment.

And I was alone. Thank the gods. I hadn't spent enough time alone lately.

Listening to the night and feeling the fire before me, I tried to clear my mind. But it's easier said than done. I've been good at all the wrong things all my life - I lied to myself, I could hold a grudge for a whole freaking Age if I wished, my anger got away from me often, and I had this strange ability to survive no matter how stupid the idea was at certain given times. Well, perhaps that was just bad luck. Or irony's love once more. In fact, all of this was another example of my relationship with irony.

Thing was, though, through all that I had to learn one thing; control. And lack of thereof. I can't control death, no matter how hard I try. I can't control the Fates. But I have to control myself. I have to watch my every thought, my every power, my every step. Every feeling.

Yet I had no word for what I'd felt that day.

It wasn't happiness or comfort. Not joy or pleasure. Of course, I'd been pleased that she'd found the lesson so mind-blowing, that she'd enjoyed it... But even that, it wasn't that simple, it was something more...

I sighed. Wonder? No, that wasn't it, though I'd felt it at one point earlier that day. Guilt? Oh, definitely, that was there. Felt it every day.

So was it a mix? Or did I merely not have a word for it?

I shook my head. "You're making things complicated. Keep it simple. You don't need to know what it is, now do you?"

"You're talking to yourself again," Phil said from behind me, making me jump.

I glanced back at him, and sure enough, there he was. "Well, I wasn't talking to you, was I? So I don't need the comment."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Continue."

Knowing now that he was listening, I made an effort to keep my mouth shut. I had never felt anything towards Bree before. Sure, I liked her as a person. But handing her the femur earlier today...

...A connection. Empathy we'd exchanged on a little bitty, insignificant subject. That was it. A moment of empathy.

"You're lying to yourself again," I muttered. Empathy didn't set butterflies loose in your stomach.

A connection was, I think, closer. Some strange connection. Empathy was part of it, I'll admit. Anticipation had been there, which explained a few things, as it was something I wasn't too familiar with. I don't know, it was just this moment - or a few - when there was something there that hadn't been before. Just a few little moments. Whatever it was called.

It scared me.

With a sigh I rolled over so that I lay on my back in the dirt. It felt soft, not dry but not wet and not rocky. Above, the darkening sky peeked shyly down through rich brown branches and the last of the red and orange and yellow leaves. All was quiet, listening to the day's last breaths in deep respect, watching those same colors as I was. I decided that I liked this place.

There were days I didn't even like to look at Bree. There were reasons, despite her personality, that I honestly didn't care to be in her presence. And though those were scars of things I could never explain, I was fine with it, even comfortable with it, because I understood.

And it was safe. Defying what was safe was, obviously, dangerous.

It was only a few moments, I know. And I was scared; but I was not panicked. It wasn't hard to suppress a few moments. I just had to stop thinking about it. Honestly, it couldn't be so hard.

I would go on living. Just three little outlandish moments was not the end of me. I still had my tranquility here, alone. Still liked it. I still knew my place. I could still walk away.

Because control was my thing. If nothing else, I would have that.

"And you, I guess," I added out loud.

"And me what?" Phil asked.

I shook my head. "Nothing." ...

...And the next thing I was aware of was footsteps nearby.

My eyes flew open on darkness. Above me the stars, in full and glorious bloom, were shining through the leaves. The air had grown cold and the fire was ash beside me. I'd fallen asleep.

Another foostep. Twigs cracked and snapped beneath a heavy boot. I caught my breath and, as if still sleeping, grunted and rolled onto my left side. My right hand 'coincidentally' landed next to Mνήμη's hilt. I listened again as the foosteps sounded - they were still yards to the west, coming this way, and on two feet, heavy enough to be a man-

"Nico? Is that you?"

I didn't answer. Too many monsters have the slick tongues that mimick voices perfectly.

"It's alright; it's just me." Now I jumped. The voice had moved, without warning, to the space right beside me. I looked up, and there Father stood - not a monster, but Father. He had chosen to appear as a tall man in ragged dark jeans and a hoodie jacket. Messy black hair stuck out from beneath the hood. The facial features were too rugged and lined slightly, eliminating the teen-ish impression. He looked like he could be twenty-two or, if you looked him in the eyes, 3,000 years old.

"Father? What're you doing here?" I asked, rolling to my knees.

"I came looking for you," he said, sitting next to me in the dirt. "You didn't come back to the palace today after training."

I frowned. "I did, though. You were busy, so Persephone said she'd... Oh."

He snorted. "Well, she didn't. Imagine that. Next time, just wait for me."

"Will do," I said. "How'd you find me out here? Where are we - Montana, I think? I was going to rebury Shane's bone."

"That's exactly what I tracked," Father admitted. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Don't be." I looked up at the stars. "I was oversleeping, actually. I needed to get up."

"Ah. Good. ...What did you do with them today?"

I sighed. "I showed Bree how to communicate with Shane."

"Not just memories?"

"No, they talked for a while. Full communication. ...Why?"

"What did she think?"

"She was amazed. Liked it, I'm pretty sure. She wanted to help him. I didn't spend much time explaining, 'cause she was kind of out of it for the rest of the day, but I planned on the big boring lecture part tomorrow. And trying another crack at her sword's recordings. But she took it well."

"...I see. Do that, but don't tell her more of the dead." His gaze lifted to the stars. "I cannot stress that enough."

I sighed. "Father-"

"Nico, I'm serious. I think I know what those Venti wanted. You can't be teaching her everything about that realm. Just give her the outlines, like we originally planned. Scare her if you have to in order to keep her from asking - just don't give her more. Am I clear?"

"Can I know what the Venti wanted, then?"

He ignored me. "And it's important that you stay away from them. I know I've said it before, but... They're dangerous. Don't stay late. And don't... Make sure you speak with me when you come back. So I know you're safe."

"Okay, one, I'm _never _safe. Two, I'm even _less _safe if you don't tell me what's going on."

"No, no, you're not. Nico, listen to me when I speak - it's not that simple-"

"I think it is!"

"Nico, _listen!"_

I fell silent as his voice echoed off the trees around us like a panicked gunshot. Anger boiled in my throat, hot and sour.

"I would tell you if I could. But it's orders from Zeus, and those are never simple. You just have to trust me. Do what I tell you, and you'll leave Oswego alive each day. If you don't... There's so much more at stake than you. Than me. I know this isn't fair, but it isn't hard, either. Don't get close to them, don't stay late, and don't teach them too much. That's all. I know you can handle that."

Don't get close. Don't stay late. I think I had those down. My heart wasn't exactly a soft, easy pillow anymore. And hiding the secrets of the dead from them would be easier.

Then that unnamed feeling crossed my mind, that connection as I handed her Shane's bone, as she and I spoke afterwards. Those strange moments.

And suddenly none of it seemed so easy anymore.

He was asking me not even to feel that little bit. It was still so little. I still couldn't ever imagine getting closer. I could never see them again and not have second thoughts. But he wanted even less than that.

"...I'll do my best, Father."

He smiled at me and pushed his hood back, revealing a head of long, messy black hair. "Thanks."

"You sure you still can't tell me, though?"

"I'm sure," he said. "But if things get dire enough, I will. Hopefully it'll never get that far. Covering up scandals is, after all, my little brother's specialty."

That, of course, made us both laugh. But it sounded hollow and dead to me. I told myself that it wasn't on purpose, that he'd fill it if he got the chance, and so would I. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of the fire's ashes, a down-to-earth smell that I found strangely comforting.

I opened my eyes. "Hey, do you think that he'd ever-"

But when I turned to look at him, he was gone.

oOo

Days went by.

They blurred together in my memories. Was it the next day I finally attempted the song Mrs. May had given me? Or was that the next, and I'd merely translated the notes for myself? I spent a lot of time on it on the weekend, between Nico's training sessions and my meals. I liked to practice in my room alone. Though everyone, in reality, was listening - it could be heard through the walls all over the house. Nobody spoke of it. Not complaint nor compliment. I assumed that meant they liked it - besides, everyone knew I preferred silence. Mentioning it would've made it awkward.

School was out for a while. Oswego was used to clearing its streets often. Just not this big of a mess.

I was okay with that, honestly. More time to train and more time to play.

Hunter and I read through Kronos's books. We found all tons of interesting creatures, and even lists of poisons at the back of one particuarly thick stack of pages, but few mentions of Kronos's patron. There was one note that werewolves liked to step in and help them. Another monsters, a great big ogre with six arms, was labeled "Earthborn" and tagged at the bottom as "revenge-seekers", and while that could mean anything, we wondered if it was relating to the patron's attempts to avenge Kronos.

"He may be writing some of this in code," I had mentioned at one point. It was midnight, and we were still up reading, sitting cross-legged on my bed among the books.

"You know what? He would do that..." she murmured. "He loved wordplay. Which resulted in some pretty lame jokes, of course. But you're right; it might be all over these books."

"Did he _ever _intend for someone else to read them?" I asked.

She considered. To my surprise, a sad look crossed her face. "...I'm not sure. He showed them to me. A few pages to Ethan. But for someone to sit down and read all the books...? Maybe, before he was cast into Tartarus. But after that, no. His family had disowned him. His wife betrayed him, after all the years he'd been loyal to her. Who would possibly want to read it? Who could he trust with it?"

That was a good point. It left me speechless, trying to imagine a wounded Kronos. I'd known, Hunter had told me, he was more complex than the cruel and abusive leader we'd known. A lot more. But I still found it hard to bring that image together.

"...Maybe that's why he was so hard on you," I eventually said. Because it was the only way I could see his emotions coming out. As angry strikes.

"Maybe," she sighed.

It also explained why he'd lost it when Ethan turned on him. Why he screamed and stomped his foot like a child. He had to have seen it coming by then, but it was a betrayal nonetheless.

I had never blamed Kronos for Ethan's death. Never gotten angry. After all, hadn't I killed children, too? Hadn't I killed demigods? That's what happened in war. Though I can't say it made me any more sympathetic towards Kronos. In fact, the Titan scared me now more than he ever had.

"Maybe he hoped, one day, to have that family back," I murmured.

Hunter, whatever it may have been, did not provide the answer.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, the streets had been cleared and school started again. Hunter and I had read the books countless times. And I could play the song all the way through. The notes were a tad stuttered in places and there was one part I really had to work on, but I could play it. The bow sang its way across the stings fluidly in the better measures. The notes began to piece themselves together. I could _feel _- I rode the notes like I ran across shadows and could feel the song building in my chest. It would all topple down when I made a mistake, however, a great big crash that reminded me of a wrecked car.

It just urged me to keep trying.

The strangest thing about those days, though, was not my newfound talent or Hunter's latest reading material. Nor was it conversations with Moon. Not even playing in the snow outside. It was Nico.

I don't know what had gotten into my half-brother. Or what'd gotten into me. But the day after my conversation with Shane, the moment I saw him, a genuine and uncontrolled smile split my face. Sharp light flickered in his eyes in return, and his own lip twitched. But he didn't smile. However, I was fine with what he'd given me.

When my attempts to read Intuneric had come up fruitless - I found no memories I didn't know of and still couldn't tell him of the one I'd hidden - he had brought up Shane. "There are things much like he showed you locked up in there."

This was, apparently, to be some sort of motivation. "...Alright..."

"They're people you don't know. People whose last remnants have been entrusted to you. Just give it another go."

His eyes had picked up that shine again, the glitter I'd seen when he talked of helping spirits, but for whatever reason I couldn't be helped. Intuneric held nothing else for me.

I dimly wondered if I should tell him, now that I'd discovered no more memories, of the one I'd kept secret. And admit there was nothing after that. Just end all this. But something told me not to. Maybe he wouldn't be satisified with that. Maybe he'd find something else wrong with me. I just had this feeling that nothing good would come out of it.

Or maybe that was just my trust issues with people again.

Regardless of my recordings fail, the oddness continued. Later that day we found ourselves discussing burial rites. Not for a lesson or for a purpose; just a conversation. Our own interests. Our preferences. Different views. Just two people talking.

He told me more about the Underworld, too. Said that odd things were happening. They were on standby/observation mode. He seemed worried.

Since we were training on the roof, when it began to snow I asked if he'd rather go inside. He shifted nervously and declined. Behind my back, I swore I heard him mutter something about doing his best.

Whatever that meant.

And as I said, the memories are blurred. But I recall him snapping less. He stopped jumping at random noises. Even Hunter and Brook didn't make him quite as uneasy. Several times I caught him just sitting in the snow, eyes closed, face rasied to the sky. He'd done it before, of course, but never as much as he did now. Was he lost in thought? Just enjoying the day? I'd never know. But when I asked or interrupted him, he'd open one eye and raise an eyebrow and say something... funny. I can't recall what it was for the life of me. "What, this isn't how you spend your free time?" or something similar. But it had made me laugh.

He had a sense of humor, I knew, but it was the one of the first times he'd openly told a joke. He did it like most other things he did; didn't make a show of it, just slipped it in with the rest of his day and pretended it was normal. Right. 'Cause gods _forbid _Nico di Angelo ever lose his cool.

Moon, of course, loved to tease him.

I lost count of how many phrases they exchanged. Moon was quite likable once I got to know her, though; always very cheery but so dang hopeless I didn't find it bothersome. Always energetic. She liked to follow Brook around. And when Nico was here, of course, follow him so closely she stepped on his heels. Which resulted in him talking about different animals you could cook on a fire. Which led to comments about how real wolves ate meat raw. Which of course just invited him to offer her some raw canine meat. And on and on they'd go, usually ending when Nico got bored of speaking.

Once, while playing the violin, Moon had sat outside my door and listened for three hours straight. She wanted to know if I could play the Song of the Wolf. When that turned out to be nothing but howling, I told her I didn't know it. Personally, I didn't find her that bad.

Nico didn't really understand what I saw in her, of course.

One day, Hunter had come out of the house to watch us work. At her request, he went back and detailed all the parts of the Underworld, their uses, and the addmission of spirits straight down to the abandoned dreams washed away by the Styx. When she asked what he'd taught me as far as summoning ghosts, though, he refused to tell.

"Why?" I asked. "You told me."

"And I shouldn't have. It's a lesson for another day," he'd said, and gone back to shadow practice.

I began to wonder if that was code for something else. We didn't learn more about spirits; no matter how many times I asked what anchors them here, details on what they were and how they worked, to visit a graveyard, for the details of the summoning spell, to speak to another ghost, it was always that answer. "A lesson for another day."

Aside from that and his one attempt at the blood-boiling spell (tried on a small bird; he wound up on his knees panting and was on the edge of fatique for the rest of the day), though, training went well. This new Nico was eager to teach me what he could, and even more so to explore the shadows with me.

Once, we even had a full conversation. Him and me and Hunter and Brook. Even Moon chipped in now and then. We argued about the snow and debated the wisdom of a spirit forgetting everything and heading for rebirth in attempt to reach the Isles of the Blest. If anyone asked, he'd told me later, that debate was part of my lessons. The info, he said, was relevant enough.

There was also another time when he'd accepted a cookie Brook offered him. She couldn't cook well, but she'd tried, and for some reason thought burnt cookies tasted delicious. She was honestly trying to be nice. I watched as he thanked her and ate it happily. It was the first time he'd easily accepted any sort of gift.

Not to say he wasn't crazy. I saw the Cheshire grin often. He continued to reference this shady 'Phil' character. And for some reason was keen on insisting that Stygian iron resembled peanut butter. I wasn't entirely sure what that was all about.

But it's Nico. Somehow it wouldn't have been the same without a few insane moments.

I wasn't so scared by him, even that hateful look (though it uneased me), as I had once been.

Hunter and I continued to work on fixing whatever rift I'd stupidly opened between us. I wasn't entirely sure where or what it was. Neither was she. But we did a good job of covering what we could. She helped me with my reading and dyslexia coaching. I helped her play with shadows - at times it was hard to remember that her mother was a daughter to Hades because she didn't have much of that power. She could manage shadows swirling around her palm. I showed her what the Hecate kid had showed me what seemed so long ago; how to form shapes, the need for control, the beauty in any magic. Modesty in all things. Watching her play with the shadows as I had that day, I felt proud. Like I'd done the dark-haired kid right somehow.

Monday night, knowing we had school the next day, we all crammed up in my bed. As I've mentioned, we didn't like separation. Sylvester, who was quite confused by this, tentatively ventured after Brook and had cuddled up at her side. Moon was sleeping on the floor.

In the darkest hours of the night, when I thought she was asleep, Brook spoke.

"Do you remember the last time we were all huddled like this?" she whispered. "At the base of that tree? After swiming through the Atlantic?"

Hunter chuckled. "Yeah. We remember."

There was silence then. I don't know what they were thinking of. After a glance to my right, I kept my mind guarded. I was focusing on Nico's latest lesson - the Universal Studios, Charon's waiting room where spirits were contained until crossing the Styx, and how its memory-loss charms worked (because that's where I was to go if ever there was an emergency) when Brook spoke again.

"Do you think he's happy now?"

Dead silence.

Hunter was the first to break it. "...Honey, are you sure you want to talk about that now?"

Brook had been silent. A few tentative questions a few days after we'd gotten here. And then just silent. I'd asked her how she was several times. After hearing, "Fine" hundreds of times, I'd finally assumed she was telling the truth and left her be. It'd been a long while since I thought of her struggling with this. Since I'd considered the idea that she wasn't 'fine'.

"Do you think he's happy?" she repeated now.

I swallowed thickly, recalling what little I'd been taught on the Judges' Pavilion. "I'm sure he's fine. I mean... There's no way he got Asphodel or anything less. And he... He..."

"He knew what he was doing," Hunter whispered for me. "Honey, he wasn't kidding when he said he was willing to die for the right cause. He's fine with what happened."

"But how do you know?" Brook whined. Sylvester's ears flicked.

I twisted - we were a mess of arms and legs in this small bed - to look at her face. But it was hidden in her curls and behind a mound of blanket. "Because we knew _him. _ He'll be alright."

I told myself that over and over and over. It was impossible to imagine different. So that's what I told her.

"Do you think he misses us? Like we miss him?"

I flinched. "Honey, he's waiting for us. Impatient, yes. But he can't be missing us. I'm sure he's watching us, actually, even now."

"You don't need to miss him," Hunter whispered. I fell silent. "We'll see him again one day. And until then, we'll remember. We carry him with us every day just by remembering. It doesn't matter where he is right now; he's still here."

"Did he tell you that?" Brooks spat.

"Yes," Hunter said in a tone that, if I hadn't known better, didn't sound like she was joking at all.

Brook turned her head from me to glare at her. "Do you see him here, Hunter? Have you honestly heard his voice since then? How do you know anything about where he is and what he feels now? Heck, he could hate us for not being there, and we'd never know. Don't spit lies to me."

"Brook," I said before Hunter could reply. My voice was shaking. "We don't have to see him. We don't have to hear him say it."

"It's easy for you to say! You saw him fall! You got to make your mind up before Ethan ever hit the ground! You got to make up whatever fairy tale you believe in; I'm sitting here stuck with _reality. _ He's here one day and gone the next. No in-between. End of story."

"Hey," Hunter snapped. "One thing I did hear him say; he's _nameless. _ Don't say his name."

"He said not to tell it to _strangers,"_ Brook shot back, voice strained. "We can say it to each other, here, alone. He said that was fine."

Hunter sighed. "Alright. Alright. ...Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

She handled this much better than I could. I had fallen silent because I couldn't speak. A ball of lead had caught in my throat.

Brook sniffed and said, voice now broken, "...Are you sure? That he's not mad? That there's nothing we could've done to bring him here with us?"

Hunter, knowing how that question applied to me, fell silent.

"Well?"

"We did everything we could," I managed, squeezing my hand. "All... All we could at the time." I could still feel his fingers in mine, slick with sweat on the undersides but dry on top, the cold barrel of a gun between our palms.

All I could do. ...Wasn't it?

There was a moment of silence before Brook said, "...Alright. I'll take your word for it."

"Honey," Hunter said, "if there's ever something bothering you, ask us. Don't just sit there. Okay?"

"Okay," Brook agreed miserably.

"Is there anything else?"

But Brook was out of questions. All that she could come up with now was, "...I miss him. I want him back."

My fist grew so tight, my nails sliced straight through the skin on my palm. Wet, warm blood washed over my fingertips.

Hell, did I want him back, too.

Moon, had stayed silent, looked up at the bleeding hand hanging over the edge of the mattress. Quietly, ears back and eyes wide with sympathy, she sat up and began to lick the small cuts affectionately. Not a whine escaped her as she pressed her muzzle at my fingers in quiet, understanding comfort.

That night my dreams were filled with nightmares.

oOo

**Nyx: So hi I'm in a rush. I'll be busy tomorrow morning, so I'm putting the chapter up now. Hope you like it. Please r&r! It is much appreciated!**

**Nic: *wipes tear* *still loves Ethan***


	15. Napoleon C4

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan owns PJatO, not us. That is not likely to change.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Hermes right hand dude - It's great hearing your ideas! Though I'll admit we tend to read them as predictions instead of suggestions. Part of it is the fact that we can be control freaks (particuarly Nyx) and another part is the fact that this is already written. So big changes won't really be able to be put in. We can be inspired on small details, though. As far as your prediction, you'll just have to read to find out ;p**

oOo

The bus on Tuesday morning was quite interesting.

The tight, cold, smelly air was packed with loud and excited chatter. The days of no school had resulted in days of isolation, and unlike myself, many people had found it disastrous to be cut from their social time. Save, you know, the phones and computers. As stories of snowed-in houses and broken windows and bulky, unfashionable winter coats and snowpants bounceda round, I curled up in my seat and did my best to sleep. Tiredness was gnawing on my eyes, mind, and limbs; clearly, Ethan had not been the best subject to bring up last night. The howling sea of conversation began to fade away in the distance, currents blurring together... Gods, it was hard to hold my head up...

...Above me (it was no accident I sat beneath the bus's foremost speaker), one song faded into the next; a familiar intro... I knew that beat from somewhere...

I sat botl upright, wide awake, gawking at teh little blessing overhead. It continued to play, oblivious. Each note landed on me like a thrown brick. It was altered, with new instruments, but that was it. No mistake.

The song Mrs. May had given me.

Then, to my utter astonishment, a soft-voiced man began to sing along with lyrics.

"No way," I breathed.

Brad, who didn't live too close to me but rode the same bus, gave me a funny look through his messy dark blonde bangs. "What?"

"That song. Do you know what it is?"

"No. Why?"

I shrugged. "I, uh... I've heard a different version."

"Huh. A remix, maybe," he mused. "There are a lot of those for popular songs these days."

"Hm," I sighed in agreement, staring out the window and listening. The notes were the same and they dipped and soared and swung in the most familiar of ways.

It kind of reminded me of an eerie lullaby.

oOo

"Bree. You're falling asleep. _Again."_

I jerked my nodding head up and blinked. "Hm?"

Kayla sighed. "Well, dang. How long did those nightmares keep you up last night?"

I sighed heavily. "The more you talk about it, the harder it is to forget and move on."

She set my science homework down - we were in study hall - and stared at me with those soft, caring eyes. "Are you sure talking about it won't help instead? Just to get it off your chest? You seem really upset. Or you must've ben, to be so tired."

The idea of speaking abou tit, of bleeding my harsh world and memories into soft, short, intelligent Kayla was horrifying. They were polar opposites. There was no formula or theory to explain that. "I'm sure. Besides, if I need to, I have two sisters. I'm fine."

"If you say so," she muttered.

"No, really - lunch is next, and I'll be better after I eat."

"You passed out not three minutes into class," she rolled her eyes, offering a smile. "Maybe-"

"She was cut off as the door slammed open. I turned around to watch as a very infuriated Natalie blew in and stamped up to Mrs. herron's desk. They whispered to each other tensely. I think the hot-headed blonde was told to cool it.

But at the end of their conversation, Mrs. Herron caught my eye and signaled me to the door, giving a pointed glance at Natalie.

Oh. I'd been summoned.

I glanced at Kayla, who shrugged and handed me my homework. "_Avenge me," _I mouthed as I left, just a quiet echo of footsteps to Natalie's storm. Her hair and pastel blue half-jacket blew behind her as she went. Long strides and panted breaths told me that she was pushing her speed; however, I had no problem keeping up.

"I can't believe I'm missing warm-ups for this," she huffed. It was the only speech for teh whole journey.

She led me to the auditorium; there, people bustled about among the seats where instrument cases were laid. The ones on stage were already crowded. Different notes hopped around the air - the plucking of tuning or practice. Now and then, the loud, soaring, smooth sound of a bow would sing out above it and the chatter. The air smelled strongly of wood and rosin. The yellow stangelights were on and trained on the restless assembly, as if ready for a concert.

I turned to ask Natalie why I was here, but she'd stormed off to get her viola.

"Okay!" I called after her. "I'll just... stand here..."

"Bree!"

I turned, shatrtled by Mrs. May's loud voice. "Hey! You sent Natalie for me?"

Her answering nod was about a mile tall. "Yep! I got to talk to Mrs. Herron over the snow break and she said I could have you today!"

I waited for her to continue, but she just stared at me with those wide eyes, as if someone had pushed her pause button. Two beats too late, I realized it was my turn to speak. "Oh... great! So I can just sit and watch?"

She nodded enthusiastically again. "Yep! And listen; always listen. I just know you'll love it! And here - I had a seat picked out for you... Jake? Jake, where did you go?"

"Here," said a soft-edged, low-pitched voice. Mrs. May turned to reveal a kid her height. He wasn't thin or thick, and had a round face with droopy blue eyes. His tousled hair hung to his matching eyebrows and shimmered gold. Like, legit coppery gold, gleaming in the light. He nodded to me. "Hey." I waved my fingers tentatively.

"Jake, this is Bree. Bree, this is Jake. Jake's our fourth-chair Violin I. You can sit at his stand with him today. Feel free to ask questions - just keep it real quiet. Jake, Bree's here to observe the class. If she chooses to join, she'll be your new stand partner."

Jake turned his gaze from her to me and again gave a small, easy-going wave. "Hey."

"Hey..." I replied.

"Okay. You two good?" Mrs. May asked. She took our one-fourth-second of silence as a yes and said, "Great! Now hurry up and get into place. We have to start now. No time to waste; we really need longer classes to begin with..."

She walked off, still talking to herself.

I glanced at Jake, waiting. He noticed and shrugged, waving me to follow. "C'mon. I'll show you where we sit."

oOo

_"That," _I said, "was amazing."

"Uh, t hanks," Jake said, shifting through his sheet music on its stand.

I helped him. "What song was that?"

"Uh... Allegro something. I don't know. This next one is my favorite."

I recognized this new piece instantly. "This is the one Mrs. May showed me. What is it?"

"It's, uh, a rewrite or orchestral version of Coldplay's _Viva la Vida. _ Some-random-genre-cross-rock song, then converted to strings. It's kinda pretty. I like playing it, I guess."

"Huh." I watched as he sat up and held the violin to his shoulder. I fell silent then, as did the whole orchestra. Elbows were raised and bows were set and intaken breath was held. Total attention was focused on Mrs. May. From her podium, she stood proud with a baton in her hand. She silently began to bounce it. My foot began to involunatrily tap - she was setting the beat...

Then, with a loud sniff and an accented pounce of her baton, she signaled the cellos to start.

Though Jake and I sat in the back, we had a very clear view of her. She moved across the orchestra slowly before queing the first violins in with a wide-armed gesture. Next to me, Jake began to bow.

It was familiar but it wasn't. It was my song but better. One, Jake was concert-ready. Two, he had the full concert-ready orchestra behind him.

It was very different when it had all its parts. Sitting here among the instruments, every note vibrated in my chest and sent whispers through my fingers. They itched and jerked, beginning to tap the familiar patterns on my knee.

It was like sitting in a boat on an ocean. The song was so much deeper when it was complete. Familiar, shallow waters had given way to that vast sea. What had once been green tide with sand beneath was now countless, sightless, heavy black depths hundreds of feet below. Every current fit together perfectly, building waves and tides for the greater cause, an intricate but mastered balance. The harmony and the base, even, and the underlying cellos all pulled together into _chords, _spread out across the room. Dynamics gave and took to form to pull the weight around, bring new currents to surface. Great tsunamis gathering at different places around us. My poor little boat was sorely outmatched. It gawked up at the waves in awe and fear.

The first violins had the melody first, matching up with the male singing voice I'd heard earlier. And dang, could they sing it. Jake's violin was a sweet sound in my ears. And then they gave it up to the cellos, quieting down as the swell built across the room, just another receeding of the tide so perfectly planned.

I sat there and rode the swells, closing my eyes, traveling wherever the song took me. It was one of the best rides of my life.

And man did my hands itch. I needed my own violin.

After ride, the sweet call of sleep had vanished entirely.

oOo

"So, did you, uh, like it?" Jake asked.

I stared out over the auditorium, watching the students pack up. Jake himself was zipping his violin case. "I loved it."

"Did you want to uh, like, join though?"

That, I'll admit, stopped me for a bit. I had to think. "I... Maybe. Everyone was in sync here. I think I could do it."

In the back of my head, though, alarms were going off. It didn't matter if I could brave the crowd or not. It wasn't a good idea. Demigods shouldn't surround themselves with a human group. It was too dangerous. We had problems we couldn't exactly tell our stand partners about, much less let _eat _our stand partners.

"Hey, Natalie," Jake said when my answer didn't come. I looked up and, sure enough, she and Jenelle (basist) were walking our way. Natalie rolled her eyes and didn't return his greeting. That was strange - Jake seemed to have a friendly basis with just about everyone here, from the losers to the geeks to the cool kids.

She stopped behind his case and crossed her arms with her weight on one foot, just studying us. I sighed and handed Jake his rosin in an attempt to ignore her.

"Well?"

I glanced up. "Well, what?"

"What did you think?"

"I liked it. Everyone played well and the music was cool." I shrugged.

Her narrowed eyes met mine. The contact locked me in place. "That's all you have to say?"

"Well, I figured it was a good summary."

"Or, you know," Jake said without looking at her, abandoning his friendly persona, "we could stop and mention how your section came in late at the bridge."

"Like you would know. You're fourth chair," she sneered.

"Fourth out of eight," he replied evenly. "You're, what, third out of five?"

"If you want to talk numbers," she said, "we could also bring up your age. How many years were you held back?"

Jake fell silent. Janelle snickered.

I raised an eyebrow. "Funny, is it?"

"Oh, sure, I guess it wouldn't be so humorous if you'd been in the same situation," Natalie sighed.

"For the record, yes, I was held back a year. Problem?"

"You aren't allowed in orchestra if you can't keep grades," Natalie shrugged. "What are yours?"

"Don't listen to her," Jake huffed.

Natalie blinked at me. "Well? Are you passing all four core classes?"

"No. I'll just continue playing at home like I always have. I've never needed a base to tell me where I am," I smiled. "But thanks for the offer."

She laughed.

I frowned, honestly wondering what was so funny. This chick was crazier than Nico.

oOo

"So no orchestra?"

"No orchestra," I said. I held up a piece of paper. "But Jake knows a site where I can download music. I can get the song with the Violin I part extracted and play along with my iPod. Cool, huh?"

"Except for the fact that we can't use the internet. Monsters would track us," Brook argued. She was peering out of the top of the study's window, the only part of it not still submerged in snow.

"But Granny isn't a demigod," I smiled proudly.

"I guess not," Brook murmured. "Though she can still see through the Mist."

"It'll work," Hunter said, twirling her pencil (not Anonymous) in her fingers. "And I'm sorry the orchestra didn't work out."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, all the concerts were held late. And nighttime is when the demons come out. So it's for the best anyway."

"There's my optimist! Always painting a happy image!" she crowed before grabbing my shoulders and ruffling my hair. I was too slow to escape her this time. A smile crossed my face, anyway; it was probably good she couldn't see it.

It'd ruin my optimist image.

oOo

"I got you! Admit it!"

"Did not!" Nico said, breathless.

"Did too!" I retorted victoriously, as if I was any better.

"Did - freaking - not," he panted. At last he took his hands off his knees and stood, stretching. Not to be outdone, I followed suit. "That was a neat trick you pulled, though. Traveling along the house."

I shrugged. "Well, it's kind of just basic strategizing. Shadows to tend to work better, you know, in the shadowy side of something."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I can't sense things that easily. But you still missed me."

"Did not," I snickered. His lips twitched in playful surrender and the subject was dropped.

"Bree! Nico! Come quick!"

We both stopped and stared at one another, but the cry didn't come again. Then, on a hidden que, we both bolted for the door.

"Hunter?!" I called as we dashed through the foyer. We crashed through the kitchen and came to a skidding halt in the living room, where she was sprawled across the floor, lost among her maze of books.

"Hey!" she grinned, waving. "Get over here and look at this!"

"Gods, Hunter," I muttered. "Give us another heart attack while you're at it."

"Gladly," she said, voice like a snake sliding through leaves. She gave Nico a wicked smile and made him shift uncomfortably.

"So what are we looking at?" I asked, frowning at her open page. She'd found the werewolf section again. We'd been through it so many times - how had she found something that we'd missed?

"This picture," she said, pointing at the demon wolf. "What does it look like to you?"

"Hm, let me think... A Ventus," Nico said sarcastically.

"Exactly," she beamed. He and I exchanged a confused glance.

"Uh..." I said. "What...?"

"Its face. The eyes are drawn as just two white, evil-looking curved rectangles thinner on the front or inside. The mouth is drawn as a white zig-zag. Relatively simple style of drawing, I guess. And it's the wolf in the background - it wouldn't hold much detail. But now look at this."

She set it aside and grabbed another book, shuffling through it until she found the Venti page. "Now look at this little Ventus hiding in the corner. What do you notice about him?"

I was speechless. "No freaking way."

"That's the same face," Nico said. "So?"

"Dude, it's the same face. Exactly. The eyes are the exact same shape, the mouth has the same amount of zigs and zags, and it's totally proportionate to the werewolf picture. And these were all drawn by hand. That's not a coincidence or a mistake."

"How come we didn't see that before?" I asked, leaning in for a better look.

"Well, the last time we looked at both these pages, it was before you mentioned him writing things in code. Apparently, he's drawing them in code, too."

"So what do you think it means?" Nico asked. "I mean, they have the same face - so what?"

"It means," Brook said, making us jump, "that they're connected somehow." I looked up - she was standing above us on the stairs, leaning over the railing and looking down. Moon had poked her head out between the small girl's legs.

"If you read," Hunter said, "they're also described as old, chaotic forces. I'm thinking, since these old and wild forces with wings belonged to Kronos's patron, that maybe the werewolves did too. Or at least had some relation to them."

"And how many different relations do you think that could be?" Brook said smugly. "They're definitely connected through the patron. If this patron was the ruler of an Age, then it was a big deal, and the kind of connection to remember."

"...And if there was ever a chance of the patron rising again..." Nico breathed.

"...Then he wouldn't flat-out announce all of its allies. He'd write them in code," I finished. "Damn."

"I don't think he ever expected the patron to rise and avenge him, as he expected to win the Second Titan War," Hunter mused, "but yeah, there's still plenty of reason for him to disguise his patron's work. And leave just enough traces for an ally to find."

"There's probably more," Brook mused, "that we're missing. Because we weren't close allies with him. There's information we're most likely lacking in order to find more clues. But as far as what we have... I'd say not so bad."

I looked at Nico. "Have you ever faced werewolves?"

"I came across a wild pack in Maine once," he mused. "They were aggressive, but they let me get away. They were really thin; dare I say starving. It didn't look too bright for them."

"Bingo. There's their reason for allying with the patron. If they weren't created by it," Brook added.

"Evil wolves," Moon spat. "Tales of, are there. Invincible is said."

I glanced at Nico again. "...Is that true?"

"Silver works. And Stygian iron, if you can spare the hours it'd take. But silver is really your only option. That or escape." He shrugged.

"Fun," Hunter muttered. Moon growled. The fur along her spine was standing up - clearly, there was a rift between wolves and werewolves. She sounded ready start a bloodbath.

"Is that all?" I asked Hunter, picking my way back to the kitchen and the foyer. I shivered. It was kinda cold in here.

"So far," she said. "I'll call you if I find something else."

Nico nodded in acknowledgement and followed me. As he laid his hand on the doorknob to go out, I saw it shaking - he was cold, too.

"Why don't we grab some hot chocolate first?" I asked. "I'm cold as a popsickle."

He gave me an odd look, like he didn't understand, but nodded anyway. "...Okay. If that's alright with you and Granny."

"Oh, psh. It's fine," I said, getting the powder packets down from the cabinet.

"I'll... I think I'll just have water," he said.

"Fine," I agreed, grabbing two cups. I handed one to him. "Go ahead and fix it."

He set the cup on the counter and nodded. "Okay."

"So, you've fought werewolves? Why wasn't I told this story?" As if I was told any stories of his past.

He shrugged, shuffling through one of the lower cabinets. "It never came up. Supposedly, they're rare. Life's hard for them." He came out with a pot, and held it over the sink, filling it with water.

I hadn't realized what he was doing yet. "Yeah, well, Venti were rare, too. ...If the werewolves come at us..."

"Brook has silver arrows," Nico said as he turned off the water and walked towards the oven. I set my own drink into the microwave. "You can all improvise with the arrowheads until you get legitimate silver weapons, if you're that concerned. It wouldn't be a bad idea to prepare. You always have shadow travel, too."

"_I _have shadow travel. So do you. And Hunter has time-warp, I guess, and she could take Brook. But I don't like it. What about our grandparents?"

He sighed heavily as he closed the oven door. "Do you want to hear me answer that question? Because I'm not going to lie."

"You know what? Go ahead."

"Well, here's the scenario; hopefully, since they're human, they'll be left alone. But that's not likely. They'll get eaten by hungry wolves." He shrugged. "Distance is never a bad thing. Nor is equiping them with silver weapons of their own. Celestial bronze, too, for that matter."

I nodded and took my hot chocolate from the microwave. "They have daggers. We had those on us when we came in from Manhattan. We'll just have to get them some silver, too. Although I don't know where we're going to get it."

"Neither do I," he said with a barking, mirthless laugh. "I have some ideas, of course, but they're all debts to call in, and no one is going to supply you three with weapons. That's what happens when you're the rejects."

"When you serve Kronos," I agreed. Inside the oven, something began to boil. I frowned. "What...? Oh my gods! What are you doing?!"

"What?!" he yelped, jumping back.

I ran to the oven and, hardly remembering to shelter my hand in a rag first, yanked the pot full of water out and dumped it into the sink. "This! What on earth...?"

"Oh," he said. He hung back; dangit, I'd scared him off. "I was boiling the water."

"Do you always do that?" I asked, half laughing. I found it funny.

"Well, yeah, 'cause if you don't, you get sick."

I turned and looked at him. "...You don't have to do that in a _house. _ It's filtered here. And you use the stove to boil it, not the oven."

"...Oh," he said lamely, and looked at his shoes.

I stared at him, at the rumpled clothes and shaggy, unbrushed and poorly cleaned hair I hadn't ever given second thought to. At the bulky bag he came with strung over his back every day. Suddenly, this wasn't so funny anymore.

I turned on the sink and poured water in his glass, handed it to him, and then grabbed my hot chocolate. "Follow me. And don't tell Granny we brought drinks upstairs."

Him on my heels, I went up the stairs. Brook had vanished. I ran into my room and grabbed the violin off the heater, hiding it beneath my bed and letting the warm air flood the space. Nico walked in just as I stood again. I closed the door behind him and told him to sit beside me on the bed, next to the window and he heater. He did, hands on his cup and staring at me with large eyes, like a child who'd been scolded.

"Why didn't you tell me you were homeless?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "'Homeless'... That's one way to put it, I guess. I've always called it 'houseless'."

I sighed. "Nico..."

"What? Where did you think I went when I left here? Back 'home' with a great big family and waiting feast on the table?"

"I don't know! Gods, I knew you lived alone, but I thought there was at least a roof to sleep under at night. Dad doesn't give you any?"

"There are places I could stay," he said gravely, giving me a stern glare. "And I have a room in his palace, but I can't use that for obvious reasons. I choose to live outside of said safe places."

"_Why, _though?"

His voice turned sharp and rose, a hostile snarl on his lip. "Because I like it! Because it's the best way I know how! Because I like being away from society every time a demon decides it wants lunch! Because I have spirits to talk to at night! Because I'm a demigod and I'm used to it and haven't given it a second thought in _years!_ Because I'm just fine like this and don't need no one trying to 'fix' anything!_"_

Silence.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking down at his water.

"No... It's alright. I shouldn't have pressured you," I sighed. I felt him relax next to me. "...But if you ever need the guest room, don't be afraid to ask."

I expected him to turn it aside. He didn't do debts. He was independant. He wouldn't take help from anyone for the sake of whatever pride he had left and because he couldn't stand owing anything. Just like when Brook had asked him if he'd wanted a cookie. It was a gift, and it was from a person; he would turn it down in a heartbeat.

But his eyes were unreadable to me. I had no idea what he was thinking of. Whatever it was, it made him hesitate.

But, just like with Brook's cookie, he shrugged and said, "...Alright."

I sighed and pressed closer against his side, waiting, but he didn't say more. We sat there in my room above the heater until we had both stopped shivering.

oOo

**Nyx: So yeah sorry this is a few hours late. I slept in again. Though I don't like it, I can't say I feel guilty, because I was up spending time with family.**

**Nic: We're expecting it by now. Don't worry.**

**Nyx: :/ ...**

**Nic: Anyway, for those of you who are bored - Nyx, I told you to fix that - with this slow beginning will not be by the next chapter.**

**Nyx: So yeah things kind of heat up. There's one or two more chapters of this and then the characters wind up screwed. Heh. 'Kind of'. It's not as boring as this, though, I promise. And honestly I didn't want to skip too much of this part. Remember it - it's all very important later. VERY.**

**Nic: Okay now stop giving spoilers.**

**Nyx: Hehe. Sorry guys.**

**Nic: Anyway, if you can catch the foreshadowing going on, tell us! As a matter of fact, if you have **_**anything **_**to say, go ahead and say it. Seriously. Just go ahead and rant. If you've seen the reviews Nyx leaves, you wouldn't be afraid to take up a whole page. **_**Anything **_**on your mind, leave it in a review!**

**Nyx: All reviews are appreciated, guys. Thanks for-**

**Nic: What is this? *holds up can***

**Nyx: ...Another empty Altoids can...**

**Nic: Uh-huh. That's what I thought.**


	16. Conundrums

**DISCLAIMER: We still do not own PJatO or HoO. Rick Riordan does. And he's been pretty good at it, wouldn't you say?**

oOo

"Oh, please. Hades! He's back!"

"Good evening to you, too, Lady Persephone," I said between my teeth with my head bowed. If she heard, she did not comment.

The doors to the throneroom opened to admit Father. He strode in, human-sized, looking quite troubled. With each step, he grew. At last he stood twenty-feet tall beside his throne.

I stared up at him, waiting. But he was lost in thought.

"Hades," Persephone sighed as she sat on her throne of flowers. "Your child is here."

Father looked down at me. "Oh. Hello, Nico. Didn't see you there."

I looked at his giant feet and decided it was best not to comment.

He turned and sat heavily in his throne, hands massaging his temple. "So, how did it go today?"

"Fine."

"Did she manage to read her sword?"

"Um... No, she didn't."

"Alright. I want you to teach her the baselines that you intended to show her afterwards; the moral things to keep in mind and the reason things are recorded. Anything else of note?"

"...Well, we're cramming the shadows as best we can. Most things I have to teach her, you've forbidden me to, so... Yep, we're all good."

"You know what? Maybe we should just give them the baselines and rules for those, too, and skip the lessons. It'd be better than nothing..." he mused. "Don't you think?"

I sighed, mulling that over half-heartedly. I didn't want to do that; and as I realized it, I started. But I went on as if I knew what I was doing. "...It's dangerous, I think. I mean, look what I almost did when I was learning. I've never tried to teach someone like this before, but I'm not stupid. Even if she has the rules, she's going to want to know why they're there. Especially with Hunter to encourage that." The created image made me grimace.

"Hm. Yet if we don't address it at all, they'll have to learn _all of it _alone."

"Quite the conundrum you two have made for yourselves," Persephone mused dryly.

"Of all the conundrums to make, we had to make a dangerous one," Father agreed.

"You know," she said hopefully, "you could avoid all of this in the first place if you'd quit cheating on me."

"Dear, I've tried to explain-"

"...Father, I think I have an idea."

He stopped arguing with Persephone to look at me. "You sound uncertain."

"I am. But it's a dangerous conundrum, remember? It... If we play it right, it could be worth a shot." I shuffled my feet nervously.

The Goddess of Flowers - or of Whininess, it seemed - sighed exasperatedly. "Oh, great. Now they're plotting together. Father-son time. Lovely as a wilted rose."

Father cocked his head to one side, waiting.

"...We could bring her here. Hunter, too, to keep her satisfied. And under watch. Brook, now, she'll probably shoot someone if she can't come, but it can be worked out. Anyway - the main point is to get Bree down here. I could teach her here better than anywhere else. We'll have time and access to every lesson _and _the rules/morales/ideas or whatever behind each one. You know, teach her right, and fast. And she's powerful. She has a lot of stamina. ...Whatever's going on here that you're not telling me, she could help with. It's a win-win."

Silence. His stare was unreadable.

Fear and unease churned in my stomach, and despite my hardest efforts, my words began to rush past my tongue like Moon let off leash. "I mean, I know it's stupid and risky, but if things are so desperate - and you talk like we're on a dying time limit - and we need to squeeze so much in, and it's right here, and she doesn't ever have to come back-"

"_What."_

The words were ice. I froze mid-sentence, breath choked, staring helplessly at the ground. At some point, I must've looked away from his eyes.

"_Ever," _he continued curtly, "gave you the idea that _anything _is worth risking that?"

There was silence. Not even the High and Mighty Queen of Misery spoke up.

"Answer me."

"Well - I, I - And I know it's stupid, but it was an idea - and if we're in trouble down here like you say, it can't be - I mean, it couldn't be horrible-"

"If she came down here," Hades growled, "we _would _be in trouble.

"I warned you when this started. The whole _reason _we're teaching her is so that she won't be that kind of trouble, to us or Olympus. Hunter even more so. We have no control over her power, don't you get it?! Bree is our only chance to reign them in! And have you forgotten that both of them are only _half _the human you are?! Do you really think it'd be so easy to kill them if things got out of hand? Especially bound to these new laws as we are? And she was raised by _my father _to boot! _All _of them! I don't want that girl or her friends anywhere _near _my kingdom _or _my people! And that's not even considering the problems we're having! Not even noticing - the way they've been targeted..."

He trailed off furiously, glaring at me as if he was going to burn a hole through my skull. I knew very well that he could. But something beneath my feet had changed. I didn't stand on sand; I stood on rock.

The words grated against my ears like the claws of a Sphinx. I didn't know why until, still uncontrolled, my own were spat from my mouth as if they were hot coals.

"Believe me; shutting them out isn't doing you any good. If you want to help them, don't leave them behind, because it never ends like that. I thought you'd understand that by now."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You look at her and think of someone else, don't you?"

I flinched. "I look at her, and I'm reminded of someone who had potential. And I reailze that Bree still does. If I go for training tomorrow and find them all dead, fine, the problem's solved and we can all move on. But they're here. Do you really want to screw this up?"

"She has potiental for darker things as well," Father warned.

"You don't know that!" I spat. "She wants to learn! I've _seen _it! She's dying to hear what you have to say! And teaching her what we originally planned - just enough, nothing too dangerous that we couldn't fix - won't do any harm! Nor would getting to know them, honestly! Even if you don't want me near them, if you want me to hate them - admit it, you tell me all the time that I should - then fine, but _you _ought to try harder than that! If you want to stifle that 'darker potential', then get you butt off that throne and _do it, _because treating them like they're monsters isn't warming them up to _anyone!_ You are so thick-headed!"

Persephone yelped in shock. "Watch your mouth, you dirty little ba-"

"_No!"_

We both fell silent, staring at him. It wasn't a yell or an outburst; it was a desperate, pained shriek.

"They _have _to stay distant. From _all of us!" _he yelped, leaping to his feet to glower down at me. I scrambled back in panic. "You don't understand what's going on! There's more to this than _us _and _them, _alright?! They've been targeted! You saw the drakon and the Venti! I couldn't ever trust them to begin with, but this - this..."

"You don't _want _to trust them," I corrected. "You just want to sit here and let things pass you by, like you always do. Didn't we just have this conversation during the Titan War? At least I'm out there trying to fix what you're too coward to correct yourself!"

"Don't! They're going to get you _killed!" _he howled. The bones at his feet rattled dangerously. His eyes were black, black and full of fury. "Even if they don't turn on you-"

"They're not going to turn on me! I understand mistrust, but accusing someone just because _you chose _not to get to know them is crossing the line! And I'm not close to them, anyway! I wasn't even going to take Bree up on her offer-"

"_What _offer?!"

I sighed. "They offered the guest room if I ever wanted a roof to sleep under. I said fine just to shut her up. And they were trying to be nice, for the record."

"When did this happen?!"

"I don't know! What's today, Wednesday? Yesterday, then."

He yelled angrily and sat back down, his head in his hands. Somehow, this scared me more than the way he'd towered above me. "Why... Why wouldn't you report that?"

"Because I didn't think you had to know! I wasn't going to take her up on it! And she was just concerned; it was a small conversation and over in a minute-"

"Concerned? You _honestly _believe that?!"

"_Yes, _I do!"

He was silent. Persephone was staring at her pastel-colored sandals. When Father finally spoke, his voice shook with rage. "I told you... Not to get close to them..."

"I'm not! If we're lucky, they'll all wind up dead tomorrow from some random demon, and we can forget all this like I said. I half-wish that would happen. But they're here, and in the meantime, I wasn't about to hate her just because she'd screwed up in the past. You weren't about to hate me for the same reason, so it seemed acceptable," I growled.

"You don't understand. Even if we can control them, they're dangerous-"

"Ugh! You are so frustrating! You know, if you'd given a damn about your kids, you'd have watched them and saved them before Kronos got a hold of them! You could have your stupid pawns by now if you cared enough in the first place! And now because _you _screwed up, again, you're content to pin everything on them. 'They're dangerous.' 'They're not trustworthy.' 'They're monsters.' And all because _you _won't tell me what's _really going on!"_

He glared at me. "Is that what this is about?"

"I don't know! You tell me! I'm just trying to fix this before the world gets blown up or something!"

"Boys," Persephone hissed. "You must calm down. Arguing is only going to end in tears. Take it from me."

We ignored her.

"I've told you," Father spat, "that I can't explain everything to you. This isn't your fight, according to Zeus. I asked you to _trust me-"_

"Yeah, well, I don't."

He fell silent.

"For one thing," I muttered, "you just admitted to letting them get killed by this _fight that isn't ours. _I thought you were going to try and make a stand, but obviously not. For another, you're dragging me into this. I freely accepted a job, but this wasn't it. I was going to be your spy and your willing tool; you turned me into some stupid pawn. No, I don't trust you. Maybe this is why there were laws separating gods from their kids. Because us mortals are just so gullible."

Another prolonged silence.

"I could turn him into a flower, if you like," Persephone offered eagerly. I rolled my eyes.

"No," Father said at last. He raised his gaze to mine again. "Listen to me, Nico. Your words aren't yours. They've done something to you."

"No, they _haven't," _I spat. "You're just delusional because, obviously, you don't care like I thought you did."

"I believe that they have. And I might be wrong, but it doesn't change this; if you're willing to give them a chance, then they have become dangerous to you. Don't go back to that house. You're free of this task; I will not lose my only child after the bloodshed of the war over something like this."

"I'm not your only child," I growled.

He didn't listen. "So stay away from them. Don't go back. Ignore my every other word if you must." He leaned forward with wide eyes, filled with supressed anger. "But listen to this. Don't go back."

Okay, so maybe I didn't really care a whole lot for them. Sure, more so than I did for most people, but that's not saying much. Maybe I'd meant it when I said I'd move on if they died. That isn't saying much, either.

But there had been that moment. When I'd showed Shane to Bree. That unnamed feeling I can't describe. And I dare anyone to look at Brook and feel hateful towards that face.

That little light I hadn't ever considered worth saving, that I'd shoved aside, I now rethought. There _was _something there between us that Father didn't like. And I was mad, I was looking for a way to rebel; I believe the term is a 'moment of weakness'. Yes, I've had quite a bit of those in my life.

Maybe that's why now, when I could use that spark for my own spiteful wants, it didn't seem so bad. There was something good in them; I'd seen it for sure. And that proved him wrong. And me getting closer? Heck, I had no interest in it, but I had interest in showing him that I wasn't his. No, not now when he acted this way. Anything I could do to rebel was open.

That spark really didn't look so hostile in that failing moment. Neither did they.

"Try and stop me," I spat, and shadow traveled away.

oOo

The world was familiar and dark. Darker and lighter shades of black and grey marked things. It was a mess of different splotches and tints, but I could make sense of it easily. The house, there, the fence, there, the tree, that funny-shaped thing there. I watched them all and listened, letting my senses range out. He was so good at hiding now.

But I was better.

To my left, the shadows twisted. Just a wrinkle in the fabric in the world. It made my skin prickle, like I was standing amid static electricity. I turned, and sure enough, it came again twice more.

I stepped to the side, ready to parry the dark arch of Stygian iron that'd surely come my way. But he went on past and stumbled. I frowned. But I hadn't been taught, by him or Ethan or anyone in my life, not to take advantage of that.

I lunged forward and shoved Intuneric against Mνήμη, letting it spin away. My hands plunged into his shadow and locked on. I gasped as the connection was made and ripped us both from Shadow Form. Sunlight burst into the world again as we slammed into the wall of the house. Or, he did. I stood above him with Intuneric at his throat.

"You're distracted today," I said, letting him go. He grabbed Mνήμη and straightened, shaking himself. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," he said. "Just distracted."

Well, clearly.

"You sure?"

"I've been wondering about the Underworld's recent escapees," he sighed. "There's some... Mysterious circumstances surrounding them. But Father says it's under control." Was it my imagination, or did I detect a hint of bitterness in that last sentence?

I shook it off. "Ah. Well, you two are closer than most demigods and Olympians, right? I'm sure he isn't lying."

"I am able to get away with saying more than usual without being blasted to ashes," he agreed, as if assuring himself of something. Then he shook his head. "Sorry. I'll try to focus. ...What were we doing again?"

I motioned for him to sit in the snow. He did, and I sat before him. "Well, I've told you what I know _about _the shadows. We were working again on applying it to fights, remember? We were stalking and hiding from one another to practice stealth and attack all at once. What did we name that game? ...Hide-and-Kill or something?"

"Hide-and-Slay," he corrected. "Alright. I'll focus this time, I promise."

"'I promise'?"

"...Apparently. Why? What about it?"

"I've never heard you say that before."

He gave me the now-familiar Cheshire grin. "I don't make promises unless I know for sure I can keep them." And then he vanished into the lengthening shadow of the fence.

I smiled, looked up at the setting sun, and dove for the underside of the porch.

Dark, damp coolness settled over me and the world's harsh colors faded into easy, calming shadows. Silence fell across the whole world like a thick blanket.

I crouched down and listened. There was nothing but fence over there - he'd moved to his hiding place already. Slowly, not to attract attention, moving with the streching shadows cast by the sun, I moved deeper into the porch.

There.

A small prickle inside my stomach. I turned, watching, listening, but there was nothing. Dang. He _was _focusing this time.

Slowly, I slipped through one of the sun-leaking cracks in the wide, dark, cool wooden planks above and hid from the burning sunlight - a light, sizzling grey color - behind the flowerpot. Oh, I could venture out if I wished, but it'd be a dead giveaway. Instead I just stayed hidden and waited for him to give himself away.

And that he did.

Something burning cold slammed into me. I ducked and raced for the shadow of the house, blasting a few dark bolts behind me as I went. I was faster than him here. I was a natural shadow.

But he found a faster, darker root along the bottom of the roof's overhang. Traveling along the wall, he shot past me and blocked my way. Before I could move around, the static electricity reached its climax, and I felt his hand latch onto my shadow.

Sunlight blinded me for a moment and I landed hard in the sparkling snow, something heavy on my chest. A cold point - Mνήμη - rested on my throat.

Nico smirked, a playful, smug little cocky half-grin that showed his sharp canine tooth. Then he rolled away, taking his sword with him.

Well, he'd kept his promise.

"How'd you do that?" I asked, rolling to my own feet. He, wisely, had his own spread wide to distribute his weight above the snow. He was even learning to navigate this 'Tartarus-worthy climate'.

"Do what? Sneak up on you? I was hiding beneath the porch, too," he said smugly, "but you didn't see me. Who's distracted _now?"_

Intuneric had reappeared as an eraser in my pocket, but I didn't bother. This called for dirty work. I snatched a handful of snow behind his back, patted it down, and let it fly.

"Ow!" he cried, whirling around. The white frost had splattered all over his arm. Wide, shocked, furious black eyes glared at me. "That had a rock in it!"

Then, before I could blink, another snowball was spinning at my face.

I yelped and dove for cover in a snow bank, which of course did a _ton _of good. I lifted my head, spitting snow, to see his smirk once again. A playful, deadly look danced in his eyes.

Oh, the little boy from L.A. wanted to play war? With _snow? _ _Let me show you how we do it up north, California greenhorn!_

I rolled behind the snow bank and gathered a stash of amo. When I grabbed two and looked over the ridge, he'd disappeared. Probably making his own base.

Except I knew how he worked by now.

I whirled around and fired, catching him in the face. He sputtered and lunged for me. My legs sprang up on their own, up and over the snowbank, letting him roll right past me.

"My turn," he laughed darkly as he got into a crouch. I backed up, reaching for my amo stash-

-And he leapt, soaring into the air on a curved pillar of Stygian iron. The snow it lifted held for a moment, sliding... And then fell all over me, burying me in frost. Somewhere, I heard his triumphant yell.

_Okay, _I thought, wishing I had no snow in my way of shouting it. _**My **__turn now!_

Slowly, pinpointing his position from footsteps on the snow, I rose on a thick, straight column of Stygian iron. The snow fell from my eyes and I could see him standing in the parking lot, looking bewildered.

Then he realized. The horrified look on his face was priceless.

I leapt from the column and, with a twist of my wrist, set it spinning. Heaps of snow went flying all over the parking lot, knocking him back into the massive piles left next to the street by the snowplows.

He completely vanished into the grey, dirty slush. I pointed and laughed, and laughed, and laughed...

With a battle cry, he burst from the snow with two undead skeletons on his heels. All three held heaps of snow.

Well, crud.

I turned and bolted, running back for my snowbank. He laughed viciously at my retreat. The sound scared me and I ran faster, legs slipping and sliding on the snow beneath me. The heavy thud of missiles exploded on my back, threatening to push me over-

-And despite the way I stood against that, I somehow managed to freaking _trip._

Something held him back, though, long enough for me to grab snow and scramble to my feet. I had a moment to see - his minions were gone, but there he was, charging me with an armful of snow. I shrieked and flung what I had and reached for more, and then we crashed into each other, locked in a close-range snow-fight. Soft ice burst across my cheek like the slap of winter itself. I shrieked and shoved forward, throwing it back at his face. He laughed when I missed.

As I ducked around him and grabbed more snow, he kicked it at me and spun, waiting. I yelped and more of tripped forward, handfuls of snow inches from his face-

-And something hit both of us. More snow exploded against my side and burst into brilliant, shimmering white existence at his shoulder. Then, not a moment later, everything froze.

I couldn't move my eyes, couldn't breathe, as if we were trapped in ice. Though out of my peripherals I could make out a blurry form next to the door...

"Dinner!" Hunter announced loudly. She chuckled and disappeared into the house.

The time-spell went with her, and Nico and I collapsed next to one another in the snow with a loud _fwump!_ I was too busy laughing to catch the breath to get up. It wasn't until I began to calm down that I realized he was laughing, too. Something he never did, yet lo and behold, there it was; a true and honest laugh.

It was a breath-taking sound, I decided.

He gasped and caught his breath, rolling onto his side in the snow, eyes squeezed shut in his hysterics. The snow covered nearly every inch of him and sparkled in the blood-red sunlight. At last the shaking of his shoulders ceased and he opened his black eyes. They shone like the night sky in full bloom.

"That was fun," he mused, letting his gaze drift from mine and back to the skies. I wondered what he was looking for up there. "I can't remember my last snowball fight."

"Really?" I asked, rolling to my feet and offering him my hand. He took it, shaking the powdery frost from his air.

"No," he said. "...I don't think I've ever had one, actually."

"Huh. You're not so bad for an amateur," I approved as we walked towards the door. I stopped outside it banged my feet against the door, knocking the snow off my boots, before opening it.

Granny stood there waiting for us, metal ladel in hand. "Hey, now! Dust it off your pants, too! Get it off! I just mopped this floor!" she scolded. Teddy and Ozzy barked manically at her feet.

"Sorry, Granny," we both said. I shook my head, loosening the snow like a wet dog shedding water. Then I took off my jacket and beat it against my legs. Last, I dusted off my jeans. I was still soaked, but better, at least.

I looked at Nico, who stood politely to the side, still covered in white sprinkles. Clearly, he had no intention of coming inside.

For the first time, a twinge of sadness hit my stomach at the thought.

"Why don't you come in? We're having soup tonight," I offered.

He looked up at the setting sun, considering. "...I don't have to travel tonight, I guess... But..."

"But what?" I asked. "We don't bite. Well, Hunter might, and I'm not making any promises on Moon, but... Please?"

He raised an eyebrow at that before looking at the sky again. "I really shouldn't... I've eaten here too many times..."

"Hmph," Granny sniffed. "Eat too much? Impossible. You're thin as a stick. Get in here before I beat you with this ladel." She turned and waltzed into the kitchen. From somewhere inside the warm house, Moon barked excitedly.

I looked back at Nico. "You won't be troubling anyone, honestly. Come on in."

Slowly, he took his gaze from the sky and stared at me, those midnight eyes glittering with the crimson shine of the setting sun. Then his lips twitched and he began to beat the snow from his boots. "Aw, what the hell. Sure."

oOo

**Nyx: Heeey, 'yall!**

**Nic: Hi.**

**Nyx: So I'm in a good mood. I've always loved this scene. Not much to say about it - this chapter kinda revolved around Nico more than anyone else, but we're back to normal next chapter. And there's more action. As I said, this is where it picks up. Like, really. Yay for having the last slow chapter over!**

**Nic: At last!**

**Nyx: Oh and we got a new avatar. It's temporary, but very enjoyable. If you click on our profile you can read what it says easily. Our poll is also on there. It's not that exciting and should come down soon. Next one is which character most deserves to be slapped.**

**Nic: And, as always, please review! Tell us what you have to say! Honestly, after seeing our total craziness, you shouldn't be shy to speak up.**

**Nyx: Nor should you be if you read Rebels. At least, so long we didn't fail. ;P**

**Nic: Well, until Saturday... What on earth are you wearing?**

**Nyx: *taps sunbraro, speaks in Russian accent* This, da? This is my chip hat!**

**Nic: *walks away slowly***

**Nyx: Well, SOMEONE isn't excited for DM2...**


	17. Technicalities

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO.**

oOo

"So, getting over your fear of snow, are you?" Hunter smirked.

Nico kicked off his second boot and left it with the rest of our shoes. "I'm getting _used _to it," he specified.

Hunter rolled her eyes and moved into the dining room, leaving the door open for us to follow.

It was nice and warm inside; the heaters were doing their job and the stove wasn't exactly arguing with them. Two bowls of stew - soup? Stew? Difference? - sat steaming on the counter. I grabbed one, showed Nico where the silverware drawer was, and sat at my usual place.

"So," Brook said as she watched him take his place next to her. "Are we still, uh...?"

"Yes," Hunter said, swallowing a mouthful of soup. "We're still having movie night."

"You girls really ought to move that to Friday night, not Thursday night," Granny muttered. Hunter shrugged and took another sip.

At that moment, something cold and wet poked my ankle. I looked beneath the table to find Moon, huddled up on the floor, staring at me with pleading eyes.

"Call yourself a wolf, do you?" I asked. "_Teddy _begs for food like that."

"I told you, Brook," Granny sighed. "No wolves at the table."

Moon sneezed and squeezed out from beneath a chair and shook out her silver fur. "Sorry. Moon staying Mistress, with. Staying _pack _with."

"Your pack is dismissed," Hunter argued.

"All is not," Moon argued, flicking her ears at Brook. "And it is haven safe, magic-guarding. Pack safe for."

"_Safe for pack," _Brook corrected. Moon muttered to herself, stretching the words around her teeth and lips.

"Girls, what did I say?" Granny reminded us.

"No wolves at the table," Brook muttered. Moon sniffed and, head low, tread off into the living room to play with Sylvester. We could hear the cat yowling from where we sat. Nico, who found this amusing for some reason, snickered.

Hunter blew her hair out of her face and said, "So, is anyone else going to attempt to make this interesting, or do I have to interfere?"

"I practiced my aim today," Brook rushed at the same time I said, "By some miracle, I passed my project on Julius Caesar."

She chuckled and took another mouthful of soup.

"Julius Caesar?" Nico asked, mildly interested.

I nodded. "Yep."

"Did you talk to him at all?"

"Uh... No, I didn't. You wouldn't teach me the details of the summoning ceremony."

"Oh," he said, looking put-out. He frowned at his soup.

Grandpa cleared his throat. "I, uh, got a new chessboard today. It's a nice, heavy, polished wooden one. Have I offered you guys lessons yet?"

Now we all looked at our soup. Nobody had the heart to tell him why we didn't play chess. The boy he was looking for had died before we'd even got here.

I flinched and turned away from my right, willing myself not to look. Brook's questions the other night still had me shaken. Nobody commented.

"So what movie were y'all going to watch tonight?" Granny asked in a too-happy tone.

Hunter took it, though, and perked up. "'Where the Red Fern Grows'. We saw it a little over a year ago. I don't remember much of it, but I know we liked it."

Brook nodded excitedly. "It's about hunting dogs." She beamed.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. I remembered the ending to _that _movie. "Oh. That one."

Nico, finding that funny, chuckled once and took another sip of soup.

"Dang," Hunter laughed at the slurpish noise it made. "Like the soup, Nico?"

He frowned. "That wasn't me."

The sound came again, a loud hissing-like noise, echoing off the walls and sending chills up my spine. Everyone froze.

"_Outside," _Hunter mouthed. In the blink of an eye, she appeared at the window, peeking out it at an angle. I tensed, hoping whatever was out there didn't see her.

She relaxed visibly. "Oh. It's alright, guys. It's another one of those big scorpion things."

"Ah," I said, letting out the air I'd been holding. I stood and stretched. The chair scraped against the floor behind me. "Whose turn is it? Yours and mine?"

"Yep," Hunter grinned, and made her way quietly to the door.

"Be careful," Granny asked.

"It's alright," I said. "These things go down with one shot. Well, if it's a big shot. Tiresome but not dangerous. I'm not exactly easy to catch." With that, I ran for the wall and leapt into the shadow cast by her chair.

Outside, it was easy to find our enemy. As I said, it's not odd for us to run into demons, nor for demons to hunt for us. We were kind of a delicacy. And, for the intelligent ones, a great challenge for them to prove themselves. The giant red flame was about the size of a minivan. I crept along the house and jumped, using the streetlight out front, around the parking lot to the fence. From there I could feel Hunter's golden magic humming. She'd already trapped the thing in time.

I gathered the shadows and let them build until I had a nice, large blast stored. And then I let it fly. The shot made me stumble, but it wasn't a terrible energy loss. When I dropped back out of the shadow realm, the giant scorpion - judging by the pile of golden dust, it'd been the size of a car - had vanished. From the doorway, Hunter smirked. I smiled back and jogged towards her.

She looked up past me at the parking lot. "Are you going to take those down?"

I turned, confused, until I saw the tall pillars and spikes of Stygian iron still standing from the snowball fight. "Oh. Sure." I turned back to the door, found the pillars and shapes with a sixth sense I can't really describe (they felt like... well, like rocks, I guess) and flicked my wrist, letting them sink back into the earth.

Hunter stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, looking puzzled. "...Was that supposed to do something?"

Now confused, I turned. But there amid the snow and monster dust remained the pillars.

Frustration gathered in my stomach. I'm not obsessive or a control freak, but I have a strong sense of, I don't know, could you call it dignity? Or pride? This was _my _home, and _my _magic. I knew it better than anyone, save whatever Nico was hiding from me, and I wasn't about to let any of that change. Stupid stubborn rocks.

I clenched my hands and wrenched them down to my sides, growling. Yet the rocks refused to budge. A hard, crushing resistance was building against me in my chest.

"...Do you need help?" Hunter asked, just as baffled.

"No," I growled, and tried it again, pushing in the vicious way of one's frightened reaction to the unknown. The refusal to let the uknown take over.

And still they stood. The pressure in my chest grew painful.

"...Are you sure? You okay?"

I didn't answer but instead tried again. The pain in my chest grew worse, and my hands began to shake.

"What's going on?" Nico asked, appearing beside us.

Hunter shrugged. "She can't get the Stygian steel stuff to go away."

"Stygian iron," he corrected, and stepped past me into the snow-covered lot. I followed him, watching closely. He raised his hands and, putting force behind it, clenched them into fists and jerked them down in the same way I had. That colbalt-glass-blue color glazed over his eyes and seemed to glow. The pillars shuddered and growled. He gasped, staggering back in shock. The glow in his eyes died, and they faded back to a very grim black.

Those shadowed eyes met mine, and I saw it in them. He'd felt it, too.

Hunter shifted nervously. Hunter was never nervous.

Then Nico grit his teeth and turned away from the monster dust, facing the pillars fully and raising his hands again. Next to him, I did the same. We both let out a careful breath and, together, gave it one last shot.

I cried out and quit as soon as we started. The pain in my chest was horrible now, and it'd started a pounding in my head. Hand on my temple, I turned, and Nico's wide eyes met mine again. They were guarded, but if I didn't know any better... I'd have said he was scared.

"...Do you guys want me to try, too?" Hunter asked. "I mean, I've never done it before, but my mother _was _a half-blood of Hades..."

Nico shrugged. "I don't see the harm. Be ready, though." And we raised our hands again. Mine, under my highest levels of control, had at last stopped shaking.

"Three... Two..." Hunter said. "One... NOW!"

The resistance felt like a crushing rock. It fell up, not down, and pressed against me as if I was pinned between it and an anvil. My hands clenched tighter and I shoved back, recalling the shadows, Brook, anything I could that'd make me try harder-

And it vanished.

Not because of our coaxing, I'm sure. But it vanished.

I gasped. It was just gone, the pain and the pressure. We weren't prepared for the lack of resistance. The force we were applying just seemed to snatch forward. Like someone letting go in a game of tug-of-war. The columns shot beneath the earth so fast, fountains of snow sprayed up in their place. I cut off my powers as fast as I could, but not before I stumbled and fell to my knees.

"That," Hunter muttered, "was weird."

"No dur," Nico muttered. They'd both managed to stay on their feet. I quickly got up and dusted the snow from my pants.

Hunter's eyes moved from my head to my toes, making sure I was okay. "Alright. Come on, guys. I don't like it out here. We ought to get inside." And she turned, waving us to follow, and strode for the door. Anonymous was still drawn.

I followed after her quickly, shivering in the cold. Nico pattered through the snow on my heels.

As we went in the door, I waited for him to head into the foyer before closing it behind me. They disappeared into the kitchen, and I moved to follow-

_BANG!_

The tinkling sound of shattered glass followed the explosive sound. I yelped and covered my face as the shards went flying. Two cut into my wrist, and a third found an unprotected patch of skin on the side of my neck. A demonic, ear-splitting shriek shredded through the air. Inside the house, there were yells of shock.

_BANG!_ Another screech as something threw itself against the door. It bent and twisted in a tortorous way, bulging inward. I yelped and ran for cover.

Not a moment too soon. With one last, fatal _bang,_ the door blew inward and let sunlight flood the foyer. A destroyed hunk of metal crashed through the basement door and tumbled down the stairs.

"Out! Out!" came Hunter's cry, riding above another angry, hissing screech.

I didn't question. I bolted for the cool safety of the shadows.

Outside, I skidded to a halt in the snow, shaking off the darkness. And there, trying to fit its bulky self through the doorframe, was the car-sized scorpion. The golden dust had vanished from the snow.

Nico appeared next to me, scowling. His eyes glittered with hatred. "Over here, little bug!" he taunted as he fired shadows and ran.

The scorpion hissed and wrenched itself from the doorframe - ripping the wood with a great splintering sound - and gave chase.

Before it got there, more shadows and a blast from a golden whip had reduced it to dust again.

All four of us - me, Hunter, Brook, and my half-brother - stood there, staring at the golden glitter scattered across the snow. It glittered in the last rays of sunlight and was ominously dark in the shadows against the white frost.

Then, right there before us, like a brilliant show of defiance, the dust began to shift.

Hunter waved her scythe in a signal, and Brook and I raced for our positions behind her. Nico bolted for the house and scrambled up the porch. He perched on its high railing and narrowed his eyes at the reawakening demon.

"Bug returns fast?" Moon asked, sounding puzzled. I jumped; I hadn't seen her there beside Brook.

"Not this fast," Hunter said grimly. "At least, it shouldn't."

The little beads of glittering gold piled atop on another in a gathering mound, shifting like shining sand, a sick hourglass sound coming from the pile. And before us, the scorpion re-formed, hissing and foaming at the mouth. Its dirty plates clacked as it moved. The giant pinchers snapped eagerly as it took in its surroundings once more.

"Haha!" Hunter laughed, running to one side. Brook and I went the other way. "Funny, Nico! Neat trick! Now _CUT IT OUT!"_

"That's not me!" Nico cried, leaping off the railing and covering the side of the monster facing the street. "I work with _mortal souls,_ not demons!"

Hunter and I fired at it again, this time with smaller blasts. Nico joined in at the last second, and together, it was enough to kill the thing once again. Brook hadn't even notched an arrow. Moon was pacing anxiously at her feet.

The scorpion, determined, began to shift around again. Golden dust ran across the snow as if it'd grown little, itty-bitty legs.

Hunter scowled at Nico. "Seriously. Stop it."

"It's not me," he shrugged.

She sighed and eyed the forming monster warily. "Then tell us what to do so it stays dead!"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I've never seen this before."

The scorpion hissed, spiked tail waving erratically in the air. It was already back.

Hunter scowled and yelled something in Greek. A blinding, golden flash lit the air between them. I turned and hid my eyes, pulling Brook close. When it faded we turned again.

The scorpion was still there. But it had ceased to move. A perfect, giant statue.

Hunter sighed. Her eyes were glowing. "That should hold it. For a while. I can't keep the spell forever. I suggest we find out what to do with it fast." She turned and made quickly for the ruined threshold.

We followed. "Are we sure nobody knows a spell?" Brook suggested. "What about Stygian iron?"

I shook my head. "No. It wouldn't work for us earlier. Let's not put trust in that." The fact bugged me. If I couldn't summon Stygian iron, then I'd have to be careful. A scorpion, I could get away with. But if I faced a bigger monster? Like the drakon? When I depended on that part of my powers for both offensive and defensive tactics?

I swallowed thickly and tried not to think about it.

Once inside, we crowded around the kitchen window and stared out into the night. The scorpion stood in the fresh moonlight, shock-still, as if it was meant to be there.

"Okay," Hunter breathed. "So, ideas?"

Nico shrugged. "Well... Obviously, there's some hole in the Underworld defenses. I have no idea where or why or how it's there, though. So I don't know how to fix it. This isn't a spell-and-fix sort of thing."

"You could ask Dad to patch that hole up," I recomended. "Or Thanatos. Isn't that one of his jobs?"

He shrugged again. "...It's not my call to order either of them around. Nor do I think they'd be happy to see me right now."

Brook sighed. "That's the only way to stop it?"

Nico's gaze flitted from the scorpion to her. "The only way I can think of."

"Then we wait for them to patch the hole," Hunter decided. "I'm sure they don't want it there, either, and since this is rare I'm going out on a limb and saying that they know it's there. Let's just hold it like this for as long as we can, and hope when it runs out, that the hole's fixed."

"...Is that safe?"

We turned. Granny and Grandpa still sat at the table, looking as bewildered as we felt.

Hunter shrugged. "The spell's not gonna break, even when I'm sleeping. It's the safest option we have."

"Hm," Nico said, and turned from the window. "I wonder if this is happening elsewhere."

The thought sent a chill up my spine. "...It might be. You're not leaving, are you?"

He looked up at me. "Well, I planned to. Why?"

"If you get caught out there alone..."

"I can shadow travel," he muttered.

"Not for long," I argued. "Stay for a while, at least. You can't just run out there and let yourself be killed."

"I won't be."

"Yeah, well, there's a chance," Hunter sighed. "You're welcome to watch the movie with us, if you want. Then you can go hide in whatever safe haven you apparently have in mind. But give things a moment to cool down."

"We could make popcorn!" Granny chimmed in. Sylvester meowed angrily from where he sat beneath her, looking for the scraps that normally would've been thrown to him and the dogs by now.

Nico sighed and shook his head. "I've stayed long enough..."

"If that thing had backup coming," Hunter pointed out, "we're screwed. Especially if said backup happens to be a flying drakon. We might need your help."

At that, he sighed and looked away, but not before a tentative glance at Brook. Who (I might add) was playing it up with wide eyes and a pleading lip.

His eyes met mine, guarded but full of that familiar contempt. My stomach twisted uneasily. "Fine. S'not like I got anywhere to be."

oOo

"They never caught a single racoon!" I argued, motioning at the credits, which scrolled by indifferently.

There was a moment of silence as we waited, wondering if the cry would awaken the scorpion. But as there had been all night, there was silence.

Hunter's golden eyes met mine. They glowed eeriely in the darkness. The edges of her face on the right side were highlighted by the faint light of the television. "They don't catch the coons," she argued. "The human kills them; the dogs track and tree them."

"Yeah," Bree said. "Didn't you see him training them?"

I snorted and looked away. In the dark, the details of her face were hidden, and she really did resemble someone else. "Well, yeah, I saw that. But it's stupid. They're not real hunting dogs. They don't _hunt."_

"Point is mine!" Moon declared exasperatedly. I flinched at the screechy, high-pitched, unnatural voice.

Brook sighed. "Can you smell a coon track, Nico?"

I sighed. "No, I can't. But that makes them trackers. Bloodhounds. Not coon hounds. What dog doesn't kill its prey?"

"Dogs that are trained not to," Hunter muttered. "Don't you remember that, Bree?"

Bree quieted quickly.

Moon, yellow eyes glinted, rasied her furry head. "Dog not."

Hunter flicked her hand. "It was an, ah, inside joke."

Bree's reaction didn't look like a joke to me, but I didn't question it. Something told me she didn't want to answer. So I went back to the previous debate. "Yeah, well, then he's trained a hunting dog not to hunt. Epic fail."

Moon barked her agreement.

Brook sighed. "Look, the requirement is that they catch the coon, right?"

I considered. "...For hunting?"

She sighed. "Many hunters use traps. So to hunt, the dogs must merely trap the coon. Clear?"

"I guess," I said, looking at those bright, glinting eyes. Deep intelligence lurked there. Brook, I had found, I could easily get along with. Despite my current displeasure with Artemis and her band of immortal Hunters. And Brook's displeasure with boys.

"Well, they treed the coons. The coons, once in the tree, cannot escape. Therefore, the dogs have _trapped _the coons, and successfully hunted them," Brook beamed. "Not to mention they use plenty of hunting-involved skills. Such as tracking and stalking and flushing and staying downwind."

"Good point," Bree agreed. Hunter and Moon were watching Brook curiously.

I sighed, tired but still interested. "I guess that makes sense. If you look at it that way."

Brook smiled at me, teeth catching the white light of the credits.

Bree grunted and stood. "Ah. Well, I didn't cry at the ending this time. I don't know about you four-" - four, counting the annoying talking canine - "-but I feel accompilshed." She leapt over Hunter and Brook, ducked past me, and peeked out the kitchen window. "The scorpion's still there, guys."

"I know," Hunter said smugly.

I set down the bowl of popcorn Granny had handed me and followed Bree to the window. Sure enough, there the giant bug stood, shock-still and outlined in moonlight. The snow seemed to be glowing out there.

She glanced at me, dark eyes reminding me once more of someone else. "You sure you're going to be okay alone?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I got a few places I could hide out. Camp Half-Blood, if I need to. Hades has a cabin there now."

"Good," she sighed. Her nose was outlined by the light from the window. I looked away from her quickly.

No, I didn't particuarly mind hanging with them now and then. And I was here because I was in the mood to defy my father. But every time I looked at her, I was reminded that I had my own reasons for staying clear.

"Be careful," she murmured. "You'll come back tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Yep."

"Call if you get into trouble," she said. Behind her, Brook, Moon, and Hunter were staring at me. The attention made me feel like I had ants crawling on my skin.

"I will," I lied, and shied back towards the darkest shadows beneath the table. They were cool and inviting. I cast one more look at Bree, too nervous under her glare. I wish I hadn't. She still didn't look quite like herself.

And then I ran, the regenerating demon problem being the last thing on my mind.

oOo

**Nyx: Heeey. I don't have long so I'll be fast.**

**Nic: Okay. I'll just, you know, be here, I guess...**

**Nyx: So yay! Here it is. Another one of my favorite chapters. I guess I like it 'cause, idk, it'd kind of like an old friend. Wasn't too different in the rough draft. A little more action here, some very important conversations and developments for the characters, interesting conflict... Please review and tell us what you think!**

**Nic: No, don't review. Just send up a balloon with your thoughts on it. It'll find its way to us.**

**Nyx: I also have news. I started working on the cover. It's almost done and drawn. When I get my computer back, it will become my newest PhotoShop project. It's more complicated than Rebels's cover, though, but as I don't have much to be doing instead of the cover it ought to be done faster.**

**Nic: I know. You were sending me pictures of it at two in the morning.**

**Nyx: Sorry! I was working on it earlier but I had to stop and go shell peas! My fingers are now purple. :/ It was fun, though.**

**Nic: ...Sure sounds fun...**


	18. Rules

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan has not given us the PJatO or HoO series, so he still owns them.**

oOo

"There you are! Great Fates, don't do that!"

I yelped as a big, crushing pair of arms closed in on me from behind. They pinned my own arms down and squeezed me so hard I started to wheeze. Complete and utter confusion swam in my mind.

At last, Father released me back onto the black marble floor. The green torchlight of Cabin Thirteen lit him better than the television had the girls; I could make out the way his long hair fell and the crooked part of his nose and scruffy, short beard. The black-and-green-striped hoodie was unzipped. Beneath it, I saw his breastplate gleaming with a sickly green glint.

I took a step back. "...Father. Nice to see you, too. ...Is something wrong?" Because why else would you be here, talking to me, half-dressed in battle armor?

"Come, sit, sit!" he was saying, ignoring me. His hand grabbed my arm and marched me to one of the bunk beds. There were only three in the room; he took me to the one closest to the door. "I've been worried out of my mind! What on earth were you doing?"

His eyes were wide and hair an absolute mess. He looked like he'd been dragged backwards through the Styx. And he was worried. I dimly wondered if gods could get drunk. After all, Dionysus was here at Camp, too...

"I was with the girls," I said, managing to hide the rest of my suspicions.

"Why so long?" he asked. "Was there trouble?"

I sighed and looked at my feet. "Not from them."

"Why didn't you report back to the Underworld?"

"Oh, was I supposed to do that? I didn't think it was a good idea," I muttered harshly.

His energy seemed to vanish. Black eyes dropped to his shoes. "I'm sorry for what happened. But you were still welcome there. Still are. I thought you knew that, and when you didn't show up..."

"They aren't exactly at my throat with daggers. I know you'd love to believe that, but they're not. And they're not _hiding anything _from me, either."

He flinched and looked away. His shoulders were slumped and dark hair now sliding between his eyes and mine. "...Nico..."

I wasn't about to buy any of this conversation, though. He knew how to play up the guilt trips. "Well, thanks for your concern, but I'm fine. If it makes you feel better, you can start training them instead. Bree would love it and you'd finally be doing something productive. And I wouldn't have to go there so often."

Now a smile played at his lips. "Ah. You don't like it there?"

"Not for the reason you don't," I muttered. "And that's my personal problems, not anything they've done or that they can help. Entirely different situation." That just made him laugh. I glowered. "I don't find that funny."

"I'm sorry," he said, biting his wrist to supress his high-like giggles, "but you must forgive me for being pleased to hear that."

"Because you hate them and don't want me around them anyway."

"And because they've been targeted," he reminded me. As if that was any better.

He sobered in the following silence. "...You _are _okay, right? Nothing showed up?"

"You wouldn't enlighten me if I told you," I said.

"And you're implying what?"

"That I shouldn't. It'll just get me worked up, and I need a clear head right now. And so do you. Nor do we need to yell at one another again."

He sighed and laid back on the bed, arms behind his head. "What if we don't yell at one another? Wouldn't it be, say, convenient if there was no yelling? And if you managed to use your brain and sneak some answers out of me, clever little demigod? And if you threatened to steal my Helm of Darkness so that nobody would tell Zeus what happened here tonight?"

I turned to look at him, wondering if he was serious. But he was focused on some splinter on the wooden planks above his head and refused to meet my eyes.

"It seems very convenient," I managed. "Almost too much so."

He shrugged. "Well, not for Zeus, I guess, but convenient for you and I. You might be a little safer."

"And you wouldn't have to go train with Bree and Hunter, too."

He sighed. "Yes, that. And that. I'll freely say that you're right."

There was silence. I thought that over. Did I want to go back? Did I want to entertain his excuses? Or did I want to agree and finally make some kind of peace between us?

"I'm sure if I asked Dionysus for something," he went on, "I'd be stupid enough to let something slip anyway. But I don't think that'd be as convenient as you tricking me into the exact information that you really, truly need."

I wasn't entirely sure if that meant he really was willing to help, or if he really was willing to get out of training. Either way, I had no choice. Better make the best of it.

"There was a scorpion today. It was a young one, like the ones raised at the ranch down south," I sighed. "It... It didn't die."

There was silence.

"I mean, it'd vaporize into golden dust and stuff, but it wouldn't stay like that. It'd just get up again and keep going. It wouldn't _stay _dead."

"...Is that all?"

"No. We were playing with Stygian iron for a while. But eventually it decided to fight us. It, like, fought back. It kind of hurt. I... I don't know what it was. But I know that I could've killed myself trying to fight it. Of its own will, it stopped eventually. I'm not sure why or how or who."

He sucked in a sharp breath and didn't speak.

"...Father?"

"It fought you?"

"Something did, yeah."

"Like... It just..."

"_Like... It just... _yeah."

He sat up and strode toward the door, face hidden by the hood. "Maybe Zeus was right... But it wasn't supposed to happen so fast..."

"Hey! I didn't have time to sneak information out of you," I said as his hand landed on the doorknob.

He stopped and looked at me. "Oh. Right."

"Don't tell Zeus, or I'll steal the Helm of Darkness," I warned, patting the space where he'd been sitting. "Get over here and let me make things convenient for myself."

He sighed and sat down. "Fine. But you can't tell anyone else, as big a deal as this is. I'm lucky I didn't get an oath over the Styx about this."

Before he could say anything else, I cut him off. I honestly tried to raise my voice. But it came out as a whisper despite my attempts. "Thank you."

Black eyes met mine. "...You're welcome, son."

"Were you honestly worried?"

"Horribly. You'll understand why. Now, I'm not going to repeat myself, so listen closely..."

oOo

"Ugh! The only thing this class is good for is the chance to wear shorts. Like, real shorts, not the capris that the school says are shorts. If it passes mid-thigh, it's not shorts!" Natalie declared loudly as she marched out of the lockerroom in her gym clothes.

I sighed and followed, thinking about how anything higher than mid-thigh was going to blind me and should be counted as underwear.

But hey, agree to disagree.

I also happened to like gym class. Sure, music was intriguing. But I wasn't about to turn down the option to have a break. Intriguing was also tiring. Gym was familiar; just the pumping of muscles and the beat of footsteps. Eating up ground with each stride. The movement and bustle and heat of a lot of moving bodies in a small space. Friendly bodies, though. Not ones with swords. Not soldiers. Not allies and not opponents. Just friendly competitors.

It was a nice, easy rest for me.

Today we were even going outside. Yeah, there was snow outside, but the field had been cleared and the sun was shining and the temperature wasn't horrible. So we were going to just head out and run around the track that edged the field. We would be graded on our effort - how long we jogged and how long we walked. And how often we talked to our peers.

"Hey!" Brad said when he saw me come out of the doors, and jogged over. His dark blue shirt matched his glasses and helped to bring out the yellow, brighter shades to his hair. "How's it going?"

"Good," I replied. "Thank the g - er, thank goodness it's Friday."

"Oh, definitely," he groaned as we made out way across the gym and to the exterior doors. "Three days to laze around! Helps to do just a little homework on each one, too. It doesn't fry your brain so hard."

"True," I agreed. "Oh. Hey, Rita! Over here!"

Rita, who looked prettier than even Kayla, smiled at us and ran to catch up. Angled, dark eyes shone through black hair. "Hello, Bree. Brad."

"S'up?" Brad asked.

"Nothing much." Heat poured down on us from above as we stepped outside. A cold wind drafted at us from ahead, though. She shivered. "Homework. Practice. Mrs. May's been having us all work really hard for the concert next week."

I blinked. "You're in orchestra?"

"Third chair violin. You sat next to Jake the other day, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. I didn't notice you there."

"I didn't notice you had an interest in classical music," Brad muttered.

Rita shrugged. Her coffee-colored skin stood out wonderfully against winter's white backdrop. "I saw Natalie and Janelle yelling at you. Is that why you didn't join?"

I shook my head. "No. It was the grades."

She smiled. "Ah. Forget about her. She's just mad because she's been head violist all her life, and for the concert seating, she was moved to third chair."

"I noticed," I laughed. "Jake was happy to remind her."

We fell into silence for the rest of the walk. The sun was warm and felt nice on my skin, and hot on my hair. Not even the bustle of the crowd at the starting line could bug me - I was too busy happily ignoring them in an attempt to enjoy myself. It was working. By the time the coach called start, I was almost smiling.

Brad and Rita kept pace with my leisure jog. It wasn't achingly slow or too fast. I knew how to pace myself; I could hold this speed for the whole of class. They were beside me for the first ten minutes or so. Then Rita fell back. Brad was panting. I was willing to keep going and leave him behind, but to my surprise, he kept up for another good fifteen minutes.

Around then was when things began to fall apart.

I was thinking to myself of our current scorpion problem. None of the neighbors had complained about our parking lot's bug infestation, but they would be soon enough, and we hadn't found a way to fix it. Brook had mentioned a few ideas earlier but wanted to talk to Nico about them first.

I hoped he was okay. Though something on the inside told me that he'd survived the night. Nico wasn't exactly easy to kill.

"Hey!" Brad said through his frenzied pants, tapping my shoulder. "Look at that!"

I blinked. "Hm?" We stood on the far side of the track, away from the teachers and the school. Here, just a chain-link fence separated us from the woods.

Immediately, I knew something was wrong. The birds had fallen silent and not a single footstep could be heard in the snow.

"Look! Look!" Brad chanted, pulling on my sleeve until we stopped.

I scanned the dull, grey, leaveless trees. Footprints in the snow told of animals that had hidden. But from what? "I don't see anything, Brad."

"Right there!" he crowed. This time I followed his arm, held out in the air defiantly, a strong and rebellious finger calling out his target. "In that tree! What _is _that thing?"

A cold knot gathered in my stomach. A massive, dark shape was gathered at the top of one of the lonely stalks. It began to move, swaying the small tree beneath its bulk-

Brad's eyes glazed over as it came into sight. His voice fell quiet and was flattened into a dazed monotone. "Oh. It's a big bird."

The Ventus waved at him mockingly, sticking out a white, lightning-sparked tongue. The smoky boy arched up his wings and flapped them playfully.

That was not a bird.

"...A _big _bird..." Brad went on.

The Mist. Of course, little human Brad couldn't see the demon in front of him.

As if sensing my attention, the Ventus's face fell. It turned and glared at me with those white eyes. A smoke-filled hand landed carefully on the tree trunk as it stared.

"Get out," I spat. "Get out of here now." My hand moved by instinct toward my pocket, where I kept Intuneric. I wore gym shorts with pockets for this reason. My fingers closed in on the eraser...

The Ventus then stuck its tongue out at me. Another cold chill ran down my spine. What if it attacked, and it wouldn't stay dead...?

The idea seriously scared me. I felt like I'd been sucker-punched. Fear gripped me so hard, I couldn't move.

And the worse thing was that this demon knew it wasn't going to die.

Slowly, hand shaking, I drew Intuneric from my pocket in the form of a short black dagger. The heavy tip was half-familiar. Gods, why hadn't Nico and I gone over throwing knives more often...

"Let's keep going," Brad said, color beginning to leak into his voice again. "Bree? ...Holy crap! Put that away!"

I glanced at my knife, then glared at the demon. "Out. Now."

"Bree! If they see you holding a knife..." Brad began, taking a step back. Behind him, the storm spirit smiled and moved to the edge of its branch, wings spreading out. My hands tightened on the knife.

But the Ventus just rolled its eyes and took to the skies, a black angel soaring through the air. Beautiful black wings beat at the air and carried it away. The cold and lonely tree shuddered, disappointed at being left behind.

oOo

"Bree? You okay?"

"No," I muttered. Hunter, knowing that tone well, backed off and left me my space.

I believe I've mentioned the separation between humans and I before. My world isn't for humans. If Brad could've seen that monster...

...He hadn't been surprised to see me holding a knife. But he'd been shocked that I'd drawn it in school. He hadn't spoken to me for the rest of that day, not even during lunch. Kayla thought that there must've been some sort of romantic tension.

Gods, what I'd give for it to be so simple.

This is why I couldn't join orchestra. This is why I ran home each day without speaking to anyone, finding my sisters and bolting like there was fire on our heels. This is (partly) why I didn't speak so much in public. Because these two worlds just couldn't mix.

It's easy for a demigod. They're half and half. Sure, they still have problems, but they know where they stand; they act as both the barrier and connection between those worlds.

But me? Where was my purpose?

Not only could I get my half-friends eaten, but I would also have to admit. To everything. To every recording I'd stashed in Intuneric by ending a life. To all I'd done in the war. To all I hadn't done. To the things I'd seen and the dry clattering of bones that I still heard every night.

And now, should a demon show up at school, could I kill it?

No.

Could I use my powers to save myself or anyone else? The way they failed last night?

No.

Imagine the look on Brad's face if he learned I'd killed children my age with that knife.

The moment we got home, I set my bag down, kicked off my shoes, and raced for my room upstairs. Sylvester was left mewling pitifully outside the slammed door. My head was spinning and my hands were still shaking. Here, alone, I could feel panic stirring in my chest. My breaths came in gasps through my mouth.

I needed something. Anything to fix this.

My hands fumbled around the room for something familiar. Familiar and non-violent. First they found my pillow. Then the broken alarm clock. Hunter's bottle of foundation; she hadn't shaken herself out of the habit of using it. Nor leaving it in my room.

But at last they found something that'd last. I felt the heavy stitching on the outside of the case before I knew what it was. My hands shook with anticipation now, and my fingers undid the zipper faster than my panicked mind could think. Oh, how I longed for the smell of rosin and the bite of strings into my left fingers and hear that same melody, feel it played, ride it on my instrument and feel it singing inside. It couldn't come fast enough.

At last the case was opened. I quickly set up my music and tightened the bow and held the violin to my shoulder. My fingers flexed eagerly on the smooth wood. It was comforting just to hold it. And the song, I could feel it in my fingers, trying to break free.

My eyes skimmed the sheet music once, just to be sure I knew what I was doing. I silently fingered the parts I had struggled with before. And then I set the bow and closed my eyes.

I had come a long way since Tuesday.

My free hand - my left, as violins are made to be held with your chin and shoulder - moved down and tapped the button on the iPod. The ear buds had wound up in my ears without me remembering when.

The intro started softly, nothing but cellos. I kept my eyes closed and waited for my cue, counting the measures... My fingers were in place, C sharp, a high second finger on the A string... Already, just one measure to go, the rest of the world had vanished. There was only the notes.

Now.

I didn't dare look at the strings for the fear of tripping my fingers. I let them find their places; they knew them well by now. If they didn't, the music pushed them into the right places. There was no denying the notes or the tempo. They ruled my pulse and my mind. The notes I played sang out through the house and echoed on the walls, fitting perfectly with the orchestra on my iPod. I could feel the strings' vibrations in my hands. The bow found its own path, weaving across the strings, in time with each finger and each note.

The sweet song fell together and just seemed to play itself, and carried me along for the ride.

I loved doing this.

The words to the song, now as familiar as the notes, found themselves at my lips. I don't sing well; I just mouthed the words in a joyous sort of union. No matter how familiar this song got, it would never be boring to me. It would be a refuge.

_I used to rule the world;_

_Seas would rise when I gave the word._

_Now in the mornings I sleep alone,_

_And sweep the streets I used to own..._

There were no demons here. No knives. No wars. No fear. Just the song, and I can't express how beautiful it was.

I was sad when it ended and the world began to bleed back into me; I felt the hot breeze of the heater and heard the creaks of our old house and could smell the beginnings of dinner wafting up from the kitchen. I could remember the Ventus and the scorpion outside my window.

But I'd done it. With my eyes closed. I had the song memoriezed.

My eyes opened to a smile on my face and Sylvester's impatient paw under the door. His quiet mewls and pleads for an early dinner were the only sound. I could still feel the song in my fingertips and on the tip of my tongue. The pride. I'd made that noise. I'd, with the help of my violin, made the most beautiful sounds I'd ever heard. And through it, I had found some sort of piece in myself. And it felt nice.

And to think, it was the same violin my mother had found refuge in...

"Wow."

I yelped and jumped, whirling around and scrambling backwards. The violin slipped from my fingers.

Nico lunged forward and caught it by the neck, then straightened and held it out to me, blushing sheepishly. "Uh... Sorry. Here."

I took it gingerly, staring at him in shock. "What... Why are you in my room?!"

He stared at his feet. "I just came for training. I shadow traveled, and didn't want to fall into the snow again, so..."

Something told me he was lying, but I dismissed it. "How much did you hear?"

"The whole song. I showed up as you were getting out the music. How... I didn't know you played. How long did you practice that?" He pointed at the music on the bed behind me.

I turned and started to put the instrument away, thoroughly embarassed he'd been here to witness said refuge. "Uh... Couple weeks? It's all I do in my free time, save play games with Hunter and Brook."

"Just a couple weeks?"

"Yeah," I said as I loosened the hairs on the bow and put it in its place. "I, uh... Well, Granny said that my mother played, and I thought..."

I went to close the case, but before I could, he reached down and stroked the wood with one finger. "That was amazing," he said. "I guess you got the talent from her, huh?"

"I've never considered it talent. Just practice," I said, letting him touch the dark wood. "Careful, now - don't touch the strings near the bridge."

"Hm," he acknowledged, and moved to the C curves in its sides. "That was talent. Trust me."

"You... Did you like it?"

"It was pretty," he said, stepping back and allowing me to close the case. "What song was that?"

"_Viva la Vida, _by Coldplay. That was the strings interpretation. I played the Violin I part and the rest was on the iPod."

"...Oh," he said as I placed the violin over the heater again. "I'm, uh, sorry if I was intruding."

I shrugged. "It's alright. I was just trying to clear my mind."

"Did it work?"

"It _did, _until someone gave me a heart attack. So what are we practicing today?"

"...Actually... That's why I'm here. Sit."

Unease began to gather in my stomach. "Should I go get the others first?"

"No." I sat obediently as he found the chain lock on my door and secured it. "And keep your voice down. It's not information for everyone. I'm not even supposed to tell you, but I will, because if I didn't... Well, I value life more than someone who _wouldn't _tell you."

I fell silent.

"Now," he said as he sat, "do you recall what happened on Olympus after the Battle of Manhattan ended?"

Oh, hell yes. "Yeah."

"Well, after you and I talked, I went downstairs to help out with collecting the bodies from around the city. I came across Rachel Dare; she's as human as anyone, but she can see through the Mist. It's a short story but I'll shorten it further; she became the latest host for the Oracle of Delphi. That day, she told a prophecy. And, of course, since the first Great Prophecy was fulfilled earlier when Luke killed himself and Kronos, it came to light that this was the _next _Great Prophecy. Did anyone tell you what it was?"

I shook my head. "I knew there was the first one and that it was fulfilled on August 18th, but I never heard it or the next one."

"It goes something like this;

"_Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,_

_To storm or fire the world must fall._

_An oath to keep with a final breath,_

_And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."_

When he spoke, his eyes turned that dark saphire color and stayed until the Prophecy was over. When it was, there was silence.

"...So what does it mean?" I asked.

"I only know what the last line is. The Doors of Death. That would be the seals on the Underworld. One of them has obviously been propped open by said 'foe'. That's why the scorpion won't die."

I looked at the window, then at those midnight eyes. They were wide and honest. "...Oh. Do you know who it is? The foe?"

"This is what you can't mention," he warned. "Father wouldn't tell me until last night, and he might actually be in trouble for doing so. ...But Hunter was right. About everything being from a past Age. We're up against Gaea."

The name meant nothing to me. "...Gaea?"

"She's the goddess of the earth. She's slept for thousands of years on end since she was last quieted," Nico said. "But she's waking now."

"Waking... Because Kronos was defeated. And like last time, she wants to avenge him?"

"Exactly. The Titans were her children. She became furious with the Olympians for overthrowing them. So she unleashed her Venti and began to raise new children to take the throne. And it's happening all over again." Now he looked away, eyes scanning the room, looking for something. "She almost won last time."

"Well, I can see why. She's the earth."

"You don't understand," he said, and turned to me with a dark light in his eyes that reminded me of the raven he'd been in my dreams. "We're at war again. But nobody bothered to tell the demigods."

War. Again.

I couldn't stand to look at him. My gaze fell to the bedsheets.

"Supposedly," he went on, "they don't need the demigods yet. They hope to stifle it quickly. But she nearly killed the gods once; she can do it again. I don't know what Zeus is thinking."

"...And why can't we tell everyone? Because he'll kill us?"

"Well, there's that too. I'm telling you because she's the _earth _- she'll be effecting the Underworld and your powers more than anything else. You have to be prepared for that. We can't tell anyone else because of the army she's rising. Last time, she rose her children to fight Olympus. But it wasn't the defeated Titans. It was the giants."

"...Okay..."

"If she found out we knew before the giants rose, then we'd be silenced," he said. "But you and I _have _to know because if we don't, we'll be silenced anyway."

"...I think I understand. But surely if we can keep it secret, then-"

"The giants were the offspring of Gaea and Tartarus itself, Bree. You and I - well, I - happen to have an army of dead behind us should they come. And Hades knows I know. Besides, it's been leaked enough. No need to make it worse. Believe me, if it was safe to tell, I would. But it's not."

"Nico, it's a war. Surely they have a right to know, anyway."

"They don't. This is all I know - that it's the earth itself we're against. As far as what's already been done, or the plot that's been formed... I don't know. And playing with the unknown will only make things worse. It's not safe to make a move. I've said all this purely for defensive purposes."

"Because you'll be in trouble if I get killed, right?" I barked, words painful as burning thorns in my mouth.

"No. Because I don't like to watch children die," he murmured.

There was silence.

"So... The drakon? The prophecy we heard?"

He shook his head. "I don't know that, either. Nor why the Venti have targeted you guys before anyone else, although that may not be important. The drakon is just another monster relased and the prophecy... I don't know. If it's from Gaea, if she gave prophecies in her time... I really don't know. Ignore it, though, because she definitely didn't tell us to give us an advantage."

Another prolonged silence. Then I said. "So... That's it? We're up against the earth? She's opened a door in the Underworld?"

"Yes," he murmured. "That's all I know. I wish it wasn't, though. If Zeus is ordering people to be quiet, he either has something in mind, or something horrible has already happened. But you and I; imagine us trying to use our magic in a fight against her. We'd be slaughtered. At least now we know our magic is failing."

"Alright. Thanks for telling me," I said as I stood, promising myself I'd tell Hunter and Brook later.

He stood after me and stretched. "You're, uh, welcome."

"Bree! Why'd you stop playing!?" came a voice from downstairs.

"It's alright, Brook!" I called.

Nico sighed and undid the chain lock. "As far as what I don't know," he said, "I'm going to be doing some investigating behind Father's back. So play along today, alright?"

"Wait, what?"

"We're going to training with your sisters today. Follow my lead and remember - _don't _tell them what we're up to."

oOo

**Nyx: Heeeey guys so I forgot it was Monday and decided to be lazy. Sorry 'bout dat.**

**Nic: Why am I not surprised?**

**Nyx: This chapter was long, but I didn't want to divide these scenes, so I kept it that way. And we had some new revelations that just fit at the end of the chapter.**

**Nic: All reviews are appreciated! Please click on that lonely box down there!**

**Nyx: Our poll is gonna come down next week, so if anyone wanted to vote, it's there on our profile. And I'm considering re-drawing the cover. Since my own computer is unavailable, I got the time.**

**Nic: When you have ten versions you can't choose from, don't call me!**

**Nyx: Aww.**


	19. Experiments

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own PJatO or HoO. Else, you know, our names would be on the books.**

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oOo

"Nice of you two to join us," Hunter said as Nico and I emerged into the kitchen. If she saw the glare I was giving him, she didn't comment.

As we sat with them at the table, he gave me a sharp-edged look. The message was clear. _Later._

'Later' better come pretty fast. While I wasn't about to rush into anything, lying to my sisters was over the line. If he didn't hurry, _all _of us would be involved in 'later'.

"So what's going on?" I asked, leaning forward.

Brook, who had Moon at her feet and was squirming restlessly, said, "We're figuring out the scorpion problem. We have to take care of it before we do anything else."

I thought for a moment. "...Well, I don't have many ideas..."

"We could light, it, up," Hunter sang.

"Like it's dyn-o-mite," I finished to Tiao Cruz's song _Dynamite. _"You know, if any of us trusted you with dynamite within ten miles of a human civilization."

Brook shook her head at us. "Actually, I had a few questions for Nico."

"Shoot," he said.

"So the bug is getting out through a hole in the Underworld, correct?" she verified.

_A hole made by Gaea. _The words were on the tip of my tongue. I barely stopped them in time.

Nico caught my slip and his narrowed eyes flashed blue. "...Yeah, that's right, Brook."

"So there's no stopping it on that side?" He shook his head. "Then what if we stopped it from this side? What if we scattered the dust?"

"YES! C4!" Hunter all but exploded, leaping out of her chair.

"_NO!"_ we screamed, including Moon and our grandparents in the next room. Sylvester screeched and bolted for cover.

Brook sighed. "Since we're all making quotes, I was thinking this; if it had to perish twice, I know enough of hate to say that for destruction, ice is also great, and would suffice."

"That's Robert Snow!" I gasped, recalling the poem Ms. Nelson had read to us time and time again. And tried to explain three times more.

Brook sighed, like I'd said something wrong, and went on. "The river's still covered in a few places, but there are holes, and the ice is thin. We could toss the thing in there."

Even Hunter, who was looking quite depressed since having her idea shut down, had to admit that Brook was a genius.

"Now, how do we get it to the river?" Nico asked with his head cocked to one side. Moon, finding this curious, mimicked the motion and watched him closely with intelligent sunlight eyes.

"Bait it," Hunter said immediately. "Or chase it there. With C4."

"Or," Brook sighed, "Bree could shadow travel."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, waving her off. "I can hardly carry three people, plus myself, a few miles. I can't carry a van-sized bug."

"Yeah," Hunter said. "And she can't move it while it's trapped. It takes time, even for a shadow, to move from point A to point B." She pointed to opposite sides of the table. "Motion requires the fourth dimension of time. If the scorpion is stuck in a no-time spell, it can't move. I mean, _I _can wrinkle time and poof around a few meters at a time, but it's not like speeding - aka warping - time and I can't take anyone or thing with me."

Brook was studying the table's imaginary diagram with fascination in shining in her eyes. "...Okay. Bree, could you shadow travel if Nico helped?"

He and I both shook our heads. Aloud, he said, "I've nearly killed myself traveling alone before."

She let out a huff and plopped into the chair. "Well, that's it for my ideas. Anyone else?"

"It doesn't matter," I sighed. "If you're out of ideas, the world is ending."

It took everything I had not to glance at the floor at that, the sudden realization striking me; the world was indeed ending. The earth itself was against us.

_Do you remember what happened the last time you kept your mouth shut?_ a low, dry, and cold voice came from the back of my head. It was Kronos's voice. I knew he had a point.

Nico couldn't read my thoughts so easily, thank the gods. He didn't warn me with magic again.

Hunter sighed. "Is there some sort of energy source you guys could latch yourselves onto? So you don't kill yourself with exhaustion?"

"A graveyard would work," Nico murmured. "But that doesn't help if we're poofing around..." Then his eyes widened. "I got it. Mrs. O'Leary."

I frowned. The name was familiar from somewhere. "And that would be...?"

"Percy's pet hellhound. You've met her once; I came with her to the Battle of Manhattan. Hellhounds are creatures crafted from shadow. Their energy reserves are much smaller than yours or mine, but they are literally part shadow, and shadow travel doesn't cost them near as much anyway. That's also why you're stamina is greater than mine in the shadow element than it is greater than mine when we're working magic with the dead."

"How big is she?" Hunter asked, glancing out the window. "I didn't get a good look last time."

"Garbage-truck sized. She nearly swallowed me once just saying hello."

Moon, happy to mock him, licked his knee. He yanked it away and glared at her.

"You sure she can carry it and follow us while it's moving?" Hunter clarified.

"Positive," Nico said, not breaking his staring contest.

"Then it's settled," she said, getting up. "Go talk to Percy about borrowing his dog. We'll be in the parking lot figuring out exactly where to take it."

oOo

The shadows whipped by in a cold, relentless whirlwind. I stuck out my hand and enjoyed the feel of them running over me. From behind, I could feel Nico following. And behind him was something... Big.

The familiar pattern of shades fell into place and I skidded to a halt, letting color bleed back into the world. This small clearing was usually twenty feet across but today was ten, as three sides were bordered by forest and the fourth the Oswego River, which had flooded due to melting snow. I ran for the edge of the woods to leave the massive dog room - this was a very crammed space for her.

Nico dropped into existence moments later, a swirl of shadows and then a solid form. He ran for me and motioned out to the river.

The forming mass behind him barked - an ear-shattering sound - and from it went a flailing, hissing tan bundle. It landed in the gentle waters with a loud splash and screeched furiously.

The giant dog turned in the tight space and barked again, making me flinch.

"Mrs. O'Leary! Sit!" Nico yelled, hands over his ears. The great red-eyed hound sat and made the ground shake. Aftershocks signaled the thumping of a wagging tail.

I looked up at the mountain of black fur. "I thought Clifford the Dog was red."

"Not in this fairytale," he muttered. Which made me wonder if he knew what Clifford the Dog was, but I didn't voice the thought.

At that moment, a golden blur shot at us through the woods and came to a rather sudden halt at our side. Hunter's wide smile gleamed wickedly. "This," she said, "almost makes up for the lack of explosions."

Brook, who had gone with her in time-warp, whistled. "Now _there's _a hunting dog, Nico."

"Psh. She wouldn't hurt a fly," Nico muttered. As if to prove his point, Mrs. O'Leary was now whining, staring with wide eyes at her new toy floating away down the river. "Well, not intentionally. There was that one kid she sat on at Camp Half-Blood once."

"That sounds nice," Hunter muttered. Meanwhile, I sent two swift blasts of shadows after the scorpion. The river began to run gold.

"Mrs. O'Leary?" Nico asked. The dog whined, still staring after her toy. She smelled of shadows this close. "You wanna go find Percy, girl? Find Percy?"

The dog whined and flattened herself, muzzle in the river. Nico stepped forward and reached up to pat her shoulder. "Go find Percy. Percy will play fetch."

In a heartbeat, the dog was up. She whirled - knocking him aside with giant flailing paws - and bolted into the shadows, disappearing in a heartbeat.

Nico spat mud out of his mouth and got to his feet. "Yep. That's a good girl," he muttered.

Hunter was laughing at him. "Taste good, Ghost Boy?"

I was about to say that I'd never tasted goddess before but shut my mouth. I grit my teeth and wondered if I should've said it anyway. In an act of defiance, give him away in front of them and in front of him, prove he didn't own me and I know where I stood...

The air to my right was empty and gave no advice, no matter how badly I burned for it.

"So what now?" Brook asked as she stepped into the clearing. I followed in the hopes that forcing myself to do something would calm said fires.

Then I realized what she'd asked. Where had she gotten the idea we were doing something together?

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that," Nico said. He shook the last of the mud from his hair and turned to us. "You remember how Bree and I struggled with our powers last night?"

They both nodded. Hunter's eyes glinted curiously. I hoped Nico knew he was under examination; she wasn't about to let anyone take any sort of even temporary command over us. He better keep his stupid story straight.

"I went to Annabeth. Annabeth is who you go to when things turn upside down; she usually has a solution."

"Pray tell," Hunter said. A phrase she'd gotten from her father and was quite fond of.

"She knew nothing," Nico spat, more to himself than to us.

"But she's Annabeth," Brook said, understanding easily. "She has a plan?"

"She wanted me to ask you if you'd be happy 'collecting data'," Nico said. "She wants to know exactly what powers are being affected. Whose and what spheres. Maybe then she can figure out why."

"...That makes sense," Brook said. "So far it's only been the earth though, right?"

"It seems, but she wants us to try other things," Nico explained, pulling shadows to his fingers to demonstrate.

Brook nodded slowly. "...Okay. Moon? You and I could probably come up with some tests to work on the earth. And the rest of my magic is all poison and spells cast on arrows. Oh, and shape-shifting."

Moon nodded eagerly, tongue lolling.

Hunter frowned. "What power of yours involves the earth, anyway?"

"Well, anything, should I cast it while touching the earth," Brook said. "And Moon's mind-reading."

Nico cursed and leapt back, hand flying to his sword. "The dog reads minds?!"

I laughed. Out loud. Served the jerk right.

Moon snapped her teeth at him tauntingly. "Scared, Death Child?"

Hunter, who was also looking concerned but also laughing, shook her head. "No one likes someone picking through their mind, wolf."

Moon snorted and sat down beside Brook, who was laughing at all of us. "It's just her and I," she explained. "We're connected like that. Constantly hearing the other's thoughts. I told you the magic with my pack and I wasn't simple."

"Clearly," Nico muttered, taking his hand off his sword.

"Hey," Hunter said. "Don't go hating the wolf. Admit it; for someone who licks her own butt, she's pretty cool."

"Anyway," Brook interrupted, clearing her throat, "I figured her and I could see if a hill between us would disrupt the connection. Or if shape-shifting is easier in a tree than it is on the ground. And then shoot at the ground. Stuff like that. Might as well do it out here, too, away from people."

"It's a good place for explosives testing," Hunter agreed.

Nico looked around, as if just now realizing where we were. "...Uh..."

"Brook's favorite fishing spot, maybe fifteen miles south of Oswego," I provided. "It's out here in the woods where the water's relatively clean. And without bothersome humans."

"We got plenty of woods here," Brook said, already heading for the underbrush. "Meet back here in an hour?"

"Be careful!" I called by instinct. She rolled her eyes and vanished into the trees.

Nico sighed and looked at Hunter. "Do you have any ideas for your own tests?"

She shrugged and began to walk away, too. "I got several. I don't need you to proof-read them." And just like that, we were alone again.

I waited until they couldn't possibly still be in earshot before rounding on him. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

"It would seem so," he said, startled by my sudden change.

"What is this all about? You didn't tell me this part."

He looked up at the sky. "This is exactly what I told them. Just gathering information. So we can find out more. It wasn't that much of a lie."

"Annabeth doesn't even know our powers hate us, does she?"

"No, she does not," Nico admitted. "I haven't told her anything. This is secret until either Zeus says its not, or we figure out more about what's gonig on. Remember?"

"I remember all too clearly," I spat. "I remember you asking me to lie to them. I remember you manipulating them. I remember refusing to open my mouth for a year and letting kids die instead. I remember waiting until it was too late. I remember _watching _some of those kids die because of what I didn't do. And I remember what it did to the three of us. If you thought you could walk in here and start all that again, think twice, because I'd shoot you between the eyes long before I let this go on!"

He stared at me for a while before saying simply, "You know, you can say Ethan's name to me. I'm not a stranger to him or to you."

I didn't even ask how he knew about that. He was the undertaker, and he could read the memories of the dead; I didn't want to hear his answer. "Fine! I watched _Ethan _die because I wouldn't open my mouth enough to put a stop to everything! Happy?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Look, if you tell them, you send giant spawns of Hell itself on their heels. Do you want that?"

"You sent giant spawns of Hell to _my _heels!" I spat.

"Father would protect you, though."

"Ha! Ha! That's funny! Nice joke there!"

"I wasn't joking," he said softly. "He doesn't hate you. I know you think that, and he thinks it of you, but it's not true."

"Don't change the subject," I huffed. "You have three days to convince me. _Three days, _understand? Don't think I have problems or feel guilty about exposing you. I'll do it."

"I believe you," he said. "But you know I've told you what I can. This is dangerous. Be careful with the games you decide to play." As if on a side note, his fingers twitched. From his sleeve slid three blue Mythomagic trading cards.

"I'm not done," I spat. "If you do _this _again - lie to them to get them to make a product for you - I will tell Pluto that you let me in on the secret."

Now he looked mad. "I'm doing this to _help _you. Sorry if it saves your life one day."

"Would you be sorry if it saved theirs?"

"I was being sarcastic. Of course I would be. Since knowledge is more harm than help to them, we'll keep them in the dark, and we ourselves will make up for whatever holes there still are. We can watch them. You can. They don't have to know to be protected."

"Maybe this isn't just about life and death, maybe it's about morals! Maybe it's about not _betraying them, _because they mean a lot to me, and I don't want to lose them?"

"You want to talk _virtues, _Sis?"

I frowned, taken off-guard. "'Sis'? That's a new one."

To this day, no words can do justice to the effect that little word had on him. He cried out like he'd been lashed and turned away with his hands clamped over his ears, nails digging into his scalp, head lowered and every inch of him taught as a drawn bowstring. He stood there for twenty full seconds before, slowly, beginning to unwind.

"...You alright?" I asked.

"Fine," he spat tersely.

"...Did I say something, or..."

"Be quiet, Bree."

"Bree? No 'Sis' this time?"

"_I didn't say that!" _he howled and spun around to glare at me. Cold, horrible fire blazed in his eyes. I took a startled step back.

On one hand, he'd just referenced me as his half-sister for the first time since... Ever. The name alone had shocked me out of my anger. But to see him unhinged like this? One little word? Fear began to leak into my veins. It would into anyone's, the look he was giving.

"...Okay," I managed. "You didn't say it. You said Bree."

Something in him died. The light in his eyes vanished and his energy went with it. He fell back to his feet - I hadn't noticed when he'd risen to his toes - and turned away, hiding his eyes from me once more.

Suddenly, my insane, furious half-brother was looking very sad.

"So..." I said, not sure if bringing up Gaea or the name was wise right now. "...Do you have plans for Halloween?"

"When is that?" he asked. "Next week?"

"Uh, no. Tomorrow night. You got plans?"

"I get a kick out of scaring people. Not kids, but teenagers and college kids and adults. I'm good at it, too. Some good-natured pranks here, maybe grab a little candy there. Don't care much for sweets."

I gasped in mock horror. "You're kidding me."

"No," he said, still refusing to meet my eyes but turning towards me a bit. Slowly opening up again. "Maybe a treat now and then, but..." He shrugged.

"Great gods of Olympus. Every kid needs candy."

"Demigods? Plus candy? Are you on Gaea's side or ours?"

"Hey, Kronos gave it a shot."

"Kronos also gave murdering and decieving and destroying the world a shot. That doesn't really entice me to try candy," Nico muttered.

"He gave vodka a shot," I remembered, "though involuntarily. Hunter decided-"

"Yeah... Neither does that..."

I opened my mouth to say something about closed-mindedness allowing a rebellion to rise in Kronos's armies when a sound rang out to us from the woods.

I froze, trapped in ice. Nico stiffened.

We waited just a moment more for it to come again. It didn't.

"...Did you hear that?" I asked.

He didn't speak or nod but turned, staring into the woods where Brook had disappeared. It was answer enough. He'd heard the scream.

Without another word, we bounded into the woods together, racing along the trail of trampled undergrowth and praying we weren't going to be too late.

oOo

We bounded atop the snow, skidding around on all fours to keep our weight distributed and prevent ourselves from falling in. Thank the gods they had left footprints. Paw prints. Else we'd have no chance.

Nico kept pace at my side but let me lead. He knew better than to be in front of me right then.

We were well into the woods, hot on their trail, when the scream came again. The sound of my name sent cold nails up my spine.

"Bree! Help!"

"That way!" I yelped, and veered off the trail, charging for where it'd come from.

Nico skidded to a halt with wide eyes. "Bree, wait!"

"Come on, slow-poke!" I howled over my shoulder. I didn't wait for him.

But I did slow down. I knew better than to charge into something blindly. But up ahead I heard scuffling in the snow. Brook yelled again. There was no sign of Moon. I was heading uphill; I pinpointed the sound on the other side and began to work slowly around it, not using magic or shadow form but just hiding in the shade of the trees. I took a deep breath and moved forward in the snow, peering around the hill-

-They had her surrounded. I couldn't see her for the mass of bodies. Four men, each eight feet tall. They wore the furs of local animals to keep warm and held weapons on their shoulders; spiked clubs, a giant sword, a hammer-like thing made of log. They were crowded together in the center of a small clearing, sneering down at something between them.

Something. _Brook. _My little Brook. I heard her yell again and breathed - she was unhurt.

Thing was, though, they'd turned their backs to me.

I smiled. Too easy. Too easy was almost fun.

In a great rush of shadows, I charged, slamming into the side of the nearest one. I hardly felt him. A shower of golden dust went off and I ran into the next, Intuneric held before me.

By that point, the other two had raised their weapons - the sword and the hammer - and were after me.

I grabbed Brook by the collar and dodged to one side.

Then I looked down and gasped. Brook wasn't there. I'd grabbed... A diamond? A small clear stone. Was this what they were obsessing over? But... But I'd heard her...

I didn't have time to think. You don't ever _think _in a fight; it gets you killed. I just turned and ran again, buying time. Looking for her.

When she was nowhere to be found, I turned and scowled at my two assailants. Better handle them, anyway. Shadows thickened around the clearing and a cold, wonderful magic filled my palm-

-And vanished. Burning fire took its place. I screeched and tried to through the molten rock, but it stuck to my palm. Slowly, excruciatingly, the diamand began to change. It shifted and moved, releasing little clear and dazzling trendils. They wound up my arm, around my fingers, pulsing a sickening pink color. And they burned.

I tried the shadows again desperately. All I got was more burn.

I grit my teeth against a scream and turned, planting my feet in the ground, and raised my sword. It hummed angrily, the magic blade battling the glistening web.

The man before me smiled and swung his hammer.

It hit the snow where I'd been standing. I rushed him and shoved Intuneric into his thigh. The man bellowed and fell into the snow. Green monster blood spilled over into the pure white frost.

Beneath me, the earth rumbled. Stygian iron.

I whirled on the last one and found that the first two demons had come back. Fear began to leak in my chest but I shook the diamond web hard and yelled. The earth shook again, and I felt the rock rising-

-And suddenly, it stopped. No wall came between us.

The flat, unspiked side of a club slammed into my right shoulder so hard it stole my breath and I landed in the snow, blinking away stars. The web extending up my arm pulsed and continued to burn, burn, burn...

And then there was a second, a diamond pressed into my other hand. I felt it start to move and yelled, jumping to my feet, but two large and meaty hands slammed me into the snow again. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, tense for a moment more. And then I let myself fall limp.

At that, the hands rolled me over. One of the monsters stood over me. A single, giant, wide eye sat above his squash of a nose. Two others appeared behind him. The fourth I felt grab my collar from behind.

"Hello, Bree," the first greeted me in the perfect mimick of Brook's innocent voice. Horror dawned in my chest as I realized what'd happened, and that there was no longer a way out. "Glad you could join us. There's someone we'd like you to meet."

oOo

**Nic: Yay! The beginning of the action we promised! ...Nyx? What are you doing?**

**Nyx: Trying to make myself cry.**

**Nic: ...And why...?**

**Nyx: I read "Light" by Michael Grant over the week. Finished it the other day. Epic conclusion to the Gone series. Really well done. But I will be eating comfort food for a whole month. I am still in denial (first step of greiving/getting over stuff) for many events and a character or two. So I am trying to make myself cry.**

**Nic: Sounds like a good book.**

**Nyx: It is. And I'm sorry this is a few hours late, guys. I forgot I had a chapter this morning and was being lazy. Again. So really, I'm sorry. I'll be getting MY computer back soon so the cover will be started up in PhotoShop... I might play around with it in other programs, too. But it'll be up before long.**

**Nic: As always, please review! Tell us what you think! We appreciate every review and will read every one! Not like we get enough to make that impressive, but if we had that many, we would still be reading each one. The poll will stay up until Nyx gets her computer back.**

**Nyx: *reaches for Altoids***

**Nic: No! *slaps her hand***

**Nyx: Comfort food!**

**Nic: Mints aren't **_**food!**_

**Nyx: Killjoy.**


	20. Reality

**DISCLAIMER: Who released the sneak peek at HoH? That's right. Us.**

**No, jk. It was Rick Riordan. He kind of owns the series.**

oOo

Not a moment later, all four disappeared. Golden glitter rained down like sparkling snow. I stared in shock, panting, breath coming in gasps.

Nico's shadow appeared first, bent between the glittering reflections of frost. Then he solidified. Mνήμη dropped from his hands and he scrambled forward on his knees, reaching for my hands. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I gasped, tugging on the restraints. The two webs had connected my hands together behind my back. "Just stuck."

He cursed and ran his fingers down the spindles. "What is this?"

"Uh... Diamond?"

All around us, the dust began to crawl.

"Nico, they're coming back."

"I know. I know," he said, grabbing Mνήμη again. "Stay still." The diamond twisted and moved for a moment before I realized - he was trying to saw it off. The action was making it bite into my injured arm, but I ignored it. His breath was warm on my shoulder and ear.

Behind him, a mound of dust was rising.

"Nico..."

"Hold on... Ah! This isn't working!" He took his sword away and flinched as the rising mound roared. It was ticked. He got to his feet and braced himself, knees bent, feet shoulder-width apart. A battle stance. "Stay behind me. Yell if one comes at you."

A second building pile gurgled furiously. The third was silent but almost completely done.

"You should've waited for reinforcements," I muttered. "They're not going to die. We need Hunter to freeze them."

"I could've waited," he muttered. "But if they'd taken you to Gaea, Zeus himself wouldn't be enough reinforcement to get you back." The first swing he took scattered a pile of dust once more.

I scrambled back, plowing through another small pile and aiming for the remnants of a fern not far off. The diamond strings pulsed and tightened when I moved.

The Cyclopes, however, weren't interested in me now. They knew I was stuck. Nico fired shadows at another and was forced to dodge a third as it swung, leaping farther away from me. They followed him.

The fourth swung his hammer, but he was slow. Nico dodged to one side and scowled. The shadows ringing the clearing twisted among themselves, growling and snarling. Chills ran up my spine. One Cyclops turned and looked around nervously. And then was blasted by said shadows.

My back hit something. Tree.

I twisted as much as I could, reaching for my pocket. Almost... Yes! My finger slid into it and wriggled, pulling things out. iPod... Pocket knife...

That'd have to do. I flicked it open and held in my hands. It was tricky, but if I wriggled my wrists right, it began to saw into the diamond.

Something in the back of my head reminded me that you couldn't cut diamond without heat, but I ignored it.

Nico screeched a battle cry and all but flung Mνήμη through the throat of a monster. The shadows howled in an eerie echo of his defiance.

As I sawed, I continued to watch. He moved like a shadow, sliding into small spaces, not solid enough to hit. The shadows died down in an effort to conserve energy. He had this way of getting around that just wasn't stoppable; where he wanted to be, he was going to be, no matter how many times you stuck a sword in his face. That, or he just made really good use of where he ended up. Easy leaps and swift curves to keep unscathed. His sword I couldn't see that often. But I could see marks it left.

I could feel a hitch in my knife now. The diamond was cutting into it, rather than the other way around. My fingers fumbled as I tried to move it further up and the tip jabbed into the soft skin of my wrist rather unexpectedly. I bit my tongue to keep from yelling.

Nico noticed, though. Just a small, distracted glance sent my way. And then he was locked in the fight again.

Two seconds later, something landed in the snow before me.

He'd thrown it, I was sure. I leaned forward curiously. And there, a bright smudge in the pure frost, was a vial filled with green goop.

The drakon poison.

I didn't hesitate. I lunged forward and grabbed the corked vial in my mouth and tossed it over my shoulder. It landed in my free hand easily.

My eyes squeezed shut as I set the knife down somewhere I wouldn't lose it. And then I slammed myself back against the tree, shattering the glass vial between us. Fire erupted on my hands. I didn't hold back this time; I screamed.

But I wasn't stupid. I grabbed the knife again and began shoving it into the mess, anywhere I could feel the diamond giving. It didn't give easily. But between the poison and the knife and just a little help from shadows - hey, I had nothing to lose but my half-brother, as mad as I could get with him - I felt the webs loosen.

I grit my teeth and shoved the tip of the knife into my palm. The edge caught the skin on my thumb, but the tip - it hit something hard, and then the web on my right arm vanished. I opened my right hand and yanked it away as fast as I could.

Not a mark was left on my skin, save the poison burns and the cuts from the knife. Well, crud. Now I had drakon spit in my bloodstream.

Two seconds later I'd freed my left hand as well. This one wasn't so bad. I leapt to my feet triumphantly and whirled around.

There in the snow, odd pink light sputtering and melted in several places, were two clear oval pebbles. The diamonds.

I drew Intuneric and left them behind, running to Nico's side.

Shadows spilled from my fingers as I rushed past a Cyclops. Nico rose his voice in a triumphant yell when he saw me.

Then the earth started to shake again.

I yelped in shock and did a funny dance, trying to keep my footing. The Cyclopes looked shocked as well. I lost sight of Nico in the turmoil, saw naught but the jumping snow and shaking trees.

Then something shrieked. Rock grinded against rock and something leapt into existence not two inches from my nose. I yelped and jumped back, still dancing, but the earth had stoppped moving.

Before me stood a ridge, seven feet high. A crecent moon of raised ground, hemming us in.

Behind me, someone laughed.

I turned. Nico and I were pressed against the ridge, and blocking our exit was a Cyclops. Two more flanked him. As they stepped forward, they fanned out, covering more ground.

Nico and I backed up until we stood as far from them as possible, shoulder to shoulder. I stole a glance to my right, infinitely worried about the empty space there.

"Are you convinced yet?" he laughed. A barking, mirthless pealing of funeral bells.

I tensed, growling, ready to fire shadows. While they were down we could get out-

-Wait. There were three. Where was the fourth?

Something landed between Nico and I not a moment later. It had the force of a truck. I was knocked to the ground so hard snow slid over itself and buried me. I sucked in a mouthful and choked, flailing, my wounded hand striking the hard earth. The resulting pain that shot up my arm made stars dance before my eyes.

And then something grabbed me, yanking on my shirt collar, and I was out of the snow.

I spat out the frost and kicked, aiming for anything I could hit. But a Cyclops's arm is long and I was all but choking; there was nothing within reach. Then something cold was pressed to the side of my throat.

I froze and prayed the diamond didn't shoot webs.

The thing that held me laughed. Seeing I was beat, it stepped closer and wrapped its other meaty arm around me, pinning me into place. Ich. It smelled of sweat and fungus. Big, crusty nails scraped my skin.

"Got it!" the Cyclops boomed. I squirmed just a little, and it pressed the diamond tighter. Fear of it stopped me from using magic. "I got it!"

I opened my mouth to call for backup. Nico was nowhere in sight.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, Mνήμη dropped to the snow, all alone.

"What about this one? Can we eat it?" a second Cyclops asked.

I turned my head and stared at the thrashing shape it held up by the throat. Nico lashed out and clawed at the giant arm with his nails, snapped at it with his teeth, silent lips screaming curses and feet swinging non-stop. Like a slender black windmill. Green monster blood oozed down the arm and down him. Black eyes blazed with fires from Tartarus itself.

The Cyclops flinched and tightened his grip. He could pop Nico's head right off his shoulders if he wanted to, and I knew it. Still he fought. There was no intent to give up anywhere in that boy.

"No," sighed the Cyclops with the hammer. Leader? "We have to keep it."

"But Patron doesn't want this one!" the Cyclops that held Nico whined. A strangled sound came from his catch. "Why can't we eat it?"

"Yeah! Yeah, Chase! Patron didn't ask for that one!" pestered the Cyclops that'd ambushed us. They looked like kids when they weren't trying to kill us.

Nico, whose face was starting to turn blue, continued to fight like a soaked and furious cat.

"Do you want to risk angering Patron?" Chase snapped. His giant eye glared rather threateningly.

The ambush Cyclops cringed back. "...No. No."

"Let us go," I spat before Chase could get in another word. "We have reinforcements coming. They'll shoot first and ask questions later if we've been captured."

Chase smiled at me. "You won't be here by the time they are. Patron wants you _now."_

Nico's blows had grown weaker. His Cyclops was getting cocky and leaning forward, sniffing tentatively. The stone at my throat began to vibrate.

Then a sharp _thwang! _rang through the woods.

The tail of an arrow appeared above Chase's eye. He glanced up at it and then crumpled into dust.

A moment later, the Cyclops behind me vanished. I crashed into the snow among dust and next to the stone. Nico landed facedown beside me. For a startling moment he lay still. Then he gasped and started to cough hoarsely, lifting his head.

"Bree! Death Child!" came Moon's excited voice. She leapt down before us. "Dead?!"

"They're not dead!" Brook snapped, appearing next to her. She knelt beside me. "What on earth are you two _doing?!"_

I smiled sheepishly. "Rescuing you."

"From what?" she asked, bewildered. She held out her hand. I didn't take it, using my elbows to push myself into a sitting position.

She gasped when she saw my right hand. "What...?"

"It's a long story," Nico rasped, rubbing his throat. His shoulders still shook with coughs.

Brook settled down and grabbed my hand, murmuring a spell to remove the poison. When she was done with that, she moved on to the next one. Moon sat next to us and watched closely. Now and then she'd sniff curiously at my palms. When the cuts had been cleaned, she whinned and butted her head against my left forearm. "Better?"

"Better," I assured her. She barked happily.

Brook turned to Nico, scowling. "What happened?"

"They wanted Bree," he rasped softly, a concealed glance sent my way. "Tricked us into coming."

"They, uh, had those stones." I pointed at the fallen diamond. "Two more are over there by the tree. I had to use the drakon poison to get them off me. They grew webs and, like... They..." Realizing what I was saying, I stared at my feet. "They stopped me from using magic."

Moon sniffed curiously at the stone. Her lips wrinkled and she stuck out her tongue, disgusted. I finished the story quietly.

Brook glanced from me to Nico and back. "...Why didn't you wait for Hunter, Nico?"

He didn't dare explain that to her.

She sighed and stood, shaking her head. "You two are idiots. Bree, haven't you rushed into things before? You ought to know better by now! And Nico, honestly; after all you've tried to coach us on, you did something like that? Did you drop your brain in the Styx?" She glared down at us furiously. Moon stood beside her with her head held high. "What do you think Ethan would say?"

I was speechless. But Nico mumbled miserably, "...That we're stupid."

"Exactly. And that stupid people get their butts killed. Now get up and march. You get nectar when we find our way back to Hunter."

"Apprentices arrogant," Moon huffed, and followed her as they paraded into the forest.

I got to my feet obediently, Nico mirroring me silently. Around us was the pack, shuffling around, playing in the golden dust to keep it gone. I saw Night mix some in with the snow and then swallow it. Then I looked ahead and stuck to Brook's heels.

She was still muttering under her breath. Now that I thought about it, she did remind me of Ethan quite a bit. At least at times like this.

"I'm sorry."

Brook and I both paused, looking over our shoulders. Nico had hung well back and still spoke softly and kept a gentle hand on his throat. He was staring at me, though; he hadn't been speaking to us both.

I knew what that meant. As Brook moved forward again, I fell back with him. "Don't apologize for that," I muttered.

"Not the fight," he said, glancing at her. "I meant... Earlier."

"Oh..."

"I was only trying to help," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

I stared ahead and stayed silent. I'd given him my opinion earlier, and it hadn't changed.

He kept talking, though. "Look, I know it was a stupid thing to ask. But I wasn't kidding. You're right to stop and question it, right to protest, right even to hate the idea, but... I really don't know more. Or what to do. I'm making this up as I go along. I'm lost and just trying to find my way. Hate the idea, hate the world, hate the circumstance, but please... Don't hate me. I wasn't aiming to hurt anyone."

Still I stayed silent. My right arm still ached from the mark left by the club and the forest was silent save our footsteps and his soft, wounded voice. It was impossible not to stop and rethink when he put it like that. The gravity of his tone made it so.

I could remember when Ethan was like that. Showing us his gun. Telling us of his foolish, dangerous, shot-in-the-dark plan. Trying to find his way, just like Nico was now.

I wasn't about to hate either of them for that.

"Don't ask me to hide anything else from them," I said curtly, fixing him under a glare. Brook was ahead and I kept my voice down; she didn't hear. Nico bent his head in - what, shame? Silent appreciation? Or was he just tired?

"I'm sorry for the nickname, too," he muttered. "It just slipped. It won't happen again."

I didn't want to ask him what all that had been about. Not yet. Before I could work up the nerve to crush that thought, Brook called back, "Nico, you ought to stop talking. You're going to damage your throat further."

"Are the pack going to just stay back there forever, scattering dust?" I asked, picking my way over a dying bush and pulling Nico along behind me with my left hand.

Moon barked with laughter at her feet. "No. Later, come will."

We walked in silence after that. Brook led the way; we trusted her not to take the wrong path. Nico and I sped up to follow closely. Even now, he dared not stand on my right, but we walked pressed against one another and he often reached over to hold back a stray tree branch. In return, I inspected his throat. Discolorations on his skin promised bruises. But with nectar I was sure he'd be fine.

We heard Hunter before we saw her. She was loudly singing a song, just the chorus, repeating it over and over and tapping her scythe to the beat. With a start, I realized we were back in Brook's fishing spot where we'd started. She must've finished her tests.

"Hey!" she said when she caught sight of Brook, and us behind her. "Dang. I thought I was the only one going to finish early... Oh, my gods. What happened?" She stopped singing real fast.

"Cyclopes," I muttered as I stepped out onto the unshaded snow. Nico stepped aside and reached into his pocket.

Brook sighed. "They were stupid and rushed into a trap. They wanted Bree for some reason. And there was something about magic-resistant rocks...?"

Nico nodded and held out three objects. Two non-glowing, dull, dirty, misshaped diamonds and one oval-like crystal. Hunter grabbed his hand and held it closer, staring down at the stones in wonder.

"You grabbed those?" I asked, shocked and absently rubbing my right wrist. "...Do they not... Attack you?"

He shrugged and gathered shadows in his palm. Like a flashbomb going off, the clear diamond burst into a dozen little webs and tightened around his hand. Hunter took a startled step back.

"Well, now look what you've done," I muttered.

He tapped at the web's center curiously, then very carefull shoved Mνήμη between it and his palm. It didn't work.

Brook stepped forward and tapped the web curiously. Immediately the webs retracted and curled into a stone again.

"It has to be taken off by magic from someone else," Hunter mused. "Huh. Interesting."

Brook took the three stones and set them down on the snow and we sat, passing around a canteen of nectar. Brook reported that the earth had had no effect on her so far. Hunter said that wet, squishy mud would allow itself to be poked with her scythe at the beginning and then hardened rather angrily.

"So the earth-force isn't just aiming for Hades," Brook murmured. "...Is that good or bad?"

"Good," Nico rasped, passing Hunter a roll of bandages to dress my arm. "For now."

"And the stones make sense," Hunter mused. "The earth fights us; the earth creates other things to stop general, less-specific magics. Though I'm wondering what they're made of." I flinched as she poked the bleeding scrape the club had left.

"I could take them to Father," Nico offered. His voice was still hoarse, but recovering. "He might know. And you can double-check the book's codes."

"The codes!" I gasped, jumping. Hunter grunted in frustration as it undid the bandage. "The codes!"

Brook frowned at me. "What?"

"The Cyclopes! They referred to their boss as 'Patron'. Capital P _Patron._ Like it was a person."

Nico gave me a well-concealed murderous glare.

"'One of my most generous patrons'," Hunter whispered. "...Dang. Patron. The sentence was revealing one of the names, not their role."

"Although this Patron could've been a real patron to Kronos as well," Brook added. "Genius."

Nico groaned and stretched, then got to his feet. "Well. I'll ask Father about that, too. But I ought to be going now." He scooped up the stones and shoved them into his pocket again.

"Will you be back tomorrow?" I asked.

He considered. "Probably. Though if this leads to something, I might be absent on some job he has for me."

"He likes to order you around a lot," Hunter noticed.

Nico shrugged. "He puts up with my backtalk and doesn't try to kill me that often, so we're even."

With that, he vanished into the shadow of the trees.

Hunter sighed and secured the last of the bandage. "That'll hold until we get back. Come on; Granny's going to panic if we're too late."

oOo

"So. Anything interesting to talk about?" Hunter asked, sitting on the bed. "Something not Patron-related?"

Using my left hand, I unzipped my violin case for the second time that day. This was my chance. But I recalled his deathly honest tone earlier and my promise to wait three days.

"No," I said, "not really?"

"Oh? 'Not really'? Come on. Tell me," she said, wriggling like an excited Moon.

I sighed. "He gave me a nickname, but I don't think he likes it."

Hunter giggled. "Did he now? What is it?"

"'Sis'."

She laughed. "Really? And he hates that?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not exactly his sister. We're related by blood and nothing else." My right arm was still too sore to play, but I wanted to so badly. So I sat there and stared at the dark wood. To entertain myself, I examined it for flaws.

"Really? You're just teacher and student?"

"Yep," I said, finding no problems.

"Bree, remember how little he used to speak? Heck, and this week, we got him to come to our movie night."

"That doesn't even make us friends," I muttered.

"I guess not," she sighed. "But don't tell me he'd do that for anyone. We both know he wouldn't."

"Yeah. He only does it for the people he hates," I muttered, looking down at my shoes.

She snorted. "He doesn't hate you."

"Yes he does. I see it. Every time he leaves. He gives me this look. Like... Like I'm repulsive. Like there's something unforgivable that I've done."

"Whatever," she muttered, looking up at the ceiling. "If you're determined to believe that."

I sighed and closed the violin case. "Anyway. Do you have anything interesting?"

"Actually, I think I do. I found Dad's watch in my stuff the other day."

I paused. "...Should I be wondering why he wore a watch, or concerned because it was in your stuff?"

"I showed them to him in an effort to describe modern time-keeping accuracy," she explained. "I kept it, because he refused to, and..." She shrugged. "In my stuff it stayed."

"So it's gone now?"

"No. It's sitting on my nightstand. Why?"

My hand clenched on the cold memory of a gun. "Hunter... You don't think you're still attached to him, do you?"

"No, that I don't," she said, voice hardening. "I miss him now and then. I don't see why that's wrong."

Hearing those words took my breath away. Hunter missing Kronos. "But..."

"Not _that _Kronos. Not the one that hit me or had all but lost his mind, hellbent on destroying the world. I told you; there's more to him than that. The good things, I miss, and wish they were more prominent in him. But they aren't and he's gone and I kept the watch because it reminded me of that man."

"He's dangerous, Hunter. Do you miss the man he pretended to be when he lied to us?"

Silence.

"That man lied to us once. That man is part of the real man, the ugly one, the one that beat you and tortured demigods and killed Ethan. Forget him."

"I won't forget him," she bristled, getting off the bed and opening the door. "That man taught me the most important things."

"Like 'abuse a dog and it obeys'?" I spat.

"No. He taught me things the same way he taught you to speak up." And then she stormed out, clomping down the stairs.

I sighed and hung my head.

"Please don't fight."

I jumped and stared with wide, guilty eyes at Brook in the doorway. She was without Moon and stared back with pleading eyes.

My hand patted the blanket beside me. "Sit." She did, and I wrapped my left arm around her shoulders. "Look, I know what that might've sounded like. But we weren't fighting."

"Yes you were."

"Not like we did on Mount Othrys," I sighed. "You know, she might've been right about that one bit, the things he taught us. I wouldn't make that mistake again and neither would she. You don't have to worry about it anymore."

"Are you sure?" she mumbled into my shoulder.

"I'm sure," I chuckled, patting her back. "We're just going through the motions. Wrapping it all up. We're all still trying to move on, you know that."

A metalic taste entered my mouth. Looking at her, I began to understand why Nico wanted to keep secrets. Though no amount of time was going to be enough for us to move on.

I didn't dare tell her that, either.

oOo

**Nyx: This is not late because I'm lazy but because something important came up this morning and demanded my attention. Before we go further, I must discuss two things with you.**

**Nic: Oh, no. She's got that murderous look.**

**Nyx: I hate Hazel. Not out of jealousy or because of Bree, and I totally believe she deserves this second chance, but because her personality clashes with mine, and I think she treats Nico like crap. She knows and cares for the demigod that brought her back and her new, long-lost brother. She is fascinated by the 'Angel' or 'Ghost King' or 'Prince of the Underworld'. She does not care for Nico di Angelo. Not once has she referred to him as a person. I bet she can't even guess his favorite color. So Hazel will not be in this. She would end up a puddle of blood and flesh. So she has wisely been kept out of my reach.**

**Or, if you want to look at the lighter side, since we're so distant I wouldn't be able to write her that well and couldn't do Rick's character justice. Sorry, Hazel fans.**

**No, I guess I'm not sorry. I really do hate her. With a passion. This isn't the way people hate Octavian or Gabe. It's worse than that.**

**The other thing is that this series was written WAY before Son of Neptune came out. Seriously. The original version of Rebels (not the rough draft that I referenced when writing the final version, but a different version entirely), was started the day I finished TLH. It was about two hundred pages, written in third person, set after TLO, and did not have Brook in it. Once it was done (kol it took like a week I was so arrogant and trigger-happy) it was discarded for the better version. And trigger-happy, excited Nyx wrote and wrote and wrote. Son of Neptune came out about when I was finishing book four (out of five books) so yeah, this is gonna be different. For one, I will say right now, there are no 'Doors of Death' hidden in Tartarus and the House of Hades. There are just random Underworld holes. And I will NOT drag Nico through Tartarus.**

**Nic: Darn.**

**Nyx: But all of the characters are subject to just short of that; I am not the nicest person. So, with that covered... I will have my computer back on Sunday afternoon! Yay! I will start the cover and change the poll and DUN DUN DUN... Write a one-shot I've had in mind for a while. It's very crack-fic-ish. It is a convo between Greeks and Romans at Camp Half-Blood. Makes no sense, if you've read the HoH sneak peek, but I think we've already covered how I like to jump the gun on things like this.**

**Nic: Yep.**

**Nyx: Anyway, please do review. It is very much appreciated. Speak to us! You guys have been so supportive, too. Please don't stop now. I don't care if it's just ranting back to me about hating Hazel - go ahead and review. See you all on Monday!**

**Nic: What, you don't have another character to rant about?**

**Nyx: Dovewing and Firestar have gotten on my nerves recently, but that's another series. (Warriors by Erin Hunter.)**

**Nic: I remember that series... **


	21. Drafted

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own PJatO or HoO. Rick Riordan still does.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms - Nyx: Kol yeah… My goal wasn't to make you hate Hazel, but I honestly didn't see harm in saying like I saw it. And though he's no Nico, I like Will Solace, too. We have an epic sub-plot for him in books four and five. He is one of my favorites to write about. I sent my Twilight opinions to your PM box. Oh, and one question – I'm not offended or anything, but I honestly can't tell what you mean by "it's sad how you see characters so freely." Would you mind paraphrasing that? Thanks. And I'm sorry if I bugged you. I have strong opinions.**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: Yep, five books. I'd tell you the titles, but as Rick has tortured us by withholding titles until the previous book comes out, I will do the same to you. ;p They all start with R, though, and can be given as a title to a group of people. Ex, "The Rebels" or "The Rejects". It took me almost three years to name them all, anyway, because I usually forget titles. It has been foretold that I will one day publish a novel called "Book".**

oOo

Words. That strange game one played with the mouth. I'd never been good with them. But I could hear them now, faded, in the distance. The dip and fall of low tones and the snap and tap of syllables, some accented. Some not. The resonating meaning. Yes, those were words.

It was a hissed conversation. I couldn't hear it, as if there were a wall between us. Ice, not shadows but painful ice, ran under my skin and made me writhe. The voices grew more urgent.

Then one pulled through. A sleek, cold voice. The ice worsened to the point where I screamed. _"...We'll make do with what we have. We haven't lost this yet."_

-And I jolted awake, panting, twisted up in my blankets. Cold sweat was running down my face. Outside, I could hear another snowstorm howling. The window was banging loudly against itself. I swear, through it and the wind, I could hear that cold voice whispering...

It was only three in the morning, though, so I lay back down and told myself to forget it. The rest of my night was taunted by the cruel sleep that refused to take me and waking images of Cyclopes and Ethan. I reached out for Hunter or Brook, but they were not there. They were in their own beds tonight.

Stupid me. I knew bringing up Kronos would do this to us. But how could I stay silent and let this happen all over again...?

_Oh, you're staying silent. You're keeping secrets for your shady half-brother._

I told myself I wasn't, that there was reason and my three-day challenge still stood, and hid beneath the covers.

oOo

School was canceled. Again.

"Seven feet!" Granny crowed at the television. "Gods have mercy! If this keeps on going, your school year will be extended, girls."

We all groaned and quickly ran to find things to do, desperate to flush the idea from our minds.

I busied myself with my violin, playing _Viva la Vida_ over and over again. It kept me pacified for a while. But eventually I needed to breathe air that wasn't thick with rosin dust and Hunter had cleared off the roof again. And I needed to get my body pumping. Exercise my arm a bit. It was feeling better since nectar, but rough-housing with my sisters couldn't hurt.

Well, it could, but you get my point.

"What, no Creeper Boy today?" Hunter asked when I emerged.

I shook my head. "No. He and Pluto must be onto something."

She shrugged and muttered, "Well, goes to show how much info they trust us with."

There were worms in my stomach, but I hid them well.

Lunch consisted of Moon 'hunting' down the ham and us, in its absence, turning to pepperoni on our sandwiches. Or in Hunter's case, beating said ham out of said wolf. We put an end to that scuffle real fast.

There was also a curious hellhound poking around the street. Something smelled interesting to it - Mrs. O'Leary? The drakon? We had ourselves a little friendly hunting competition.

I went back to my violin, but something in me had changed over time. I'd felt it coming on. But now it hit full-force. The air in the house was just too still. Even with Antonio, Ozzy, and Teddy having races up and down the stairs. The cold air outside was filled with microscopic little knives. Even the house had turned. Hostility radiated from the walls of my aging friend. Its betrayal left me feeling sad.

Hunter and I exchanged little talk and, by silent agreement, avoided mentioning Kronos.

To entertain myself, I thought about Gaea. What might Nico have discovered? What doors would it open? Maybe it'd even allow us to share the information with Nico and Hunter. The contempt-filled air suppressed the hopeful idea.

By dinnertime, I was absolutely positive. Something was very, very _wrong._

Hunter and Brook shared my suspicions.

"Nico might have info tomorrow," Hunter sighed. "Anyway. It's only four o'clock. Who's still up for trick-or-treating?"

"Moon!" barked the wolf happily, and bolted upstairs. Brook yelled and chased after her.

Hunter chuckled. "Well. I'm gonna go put my costume on. Be back in five." And up the stairs she went.

Granny took duty at the door and was happy to share the wonder of sugary treats with the kids of Oswego. Grandpa sat himself down in his room and listened to one of the auditory books he had. Most of them had been written by her; he liked to listen to those over and over.

The idea of candy did not cheer me up as it had the others. In fact, thinking of candy on my tongue made my stomach roll. I walked into the kitchen and stood above the sink to debate trying a glass of water. Maybe some aspirin or something wouldn't be a bad idea, either...

I grabbed a glass and filled it, and was shuffling around the medicine cabinet, listening to Moon and Brook tease one another upstairs, when the answers finally came.

"Bree!"

I yelped and jumped. As I did, my hand knocked into a bottle whose lid was loose. Swallow-sized little beads went scattering and bouncing all over the kitchen floor. There, among the mess he'd caused, stood Nico.

No sooner had I turned did his knees buckle.

Panicked, I leapt forward and grabbed him by the shoulders before he could hit the floor. "Nico?! Great gods, quit sneaking up on me!"

"Nt," he mumbled into my arm.

"Hold on," I muttered, slowing lowering us both to our knees. He let go of me and sagged against the counter. My hands fumbled around my belt loops before I remembered I'd left my nectar upstairs, so I settled for the glass of water. He held out a shaky hand for it - much to my relief - and took a big gulp before throwing the rest on his face. "...Are you okay?"

"Fine," he gasped, panting and shaking off the water. "Been shadow traveling... All day."

I sighed and stole his bag from his shoulders to search it. He had nectar sitting right at the top; I took it and handed it to him before getting up and grabbing the broom from its corner. "What's happened?" I asked as I started to sweep up the pills. The bottle identified them as Sylvester's antibiotics.

"Gaea," he rasped. I stole a glance his way to find now wide, distant eyes. "Gaea's done something horrible."

It was a while before I replied. "...And that would be...?"

"Hey!" came Hunter's voice from the stairs. She leapt over the railing and Anonymous burst into existence in mid-air, expertly twisted in her hands to hang unhindered as she landed in the living room floor, carefully held above any furniture it could hit. "I heard yelling. What's going on?"

"Nico says something's wrong," I said, looking at the pile of cat meds and wondering if it'd be okay to put them back in the bottle. Anything to keep off the terrible images Nico's news had spawned. Hey, Sylvester ate off the floor all the time...

Hunter straightened and tugged nervously on her jacket. She must've been in the middle of getting into her costume when she heard us, and scrambled to get back into her clothes. See, our wardrobes are designed to give us enough space to fight, should any demon, monster, or cruel god or goddess decide we look interesting.

Deciding that Sylvester probably didn't want to eat off the bottom of the broom (and that Granny would kill me if I let him eat off the floor) I tossed the spilled antibiotics in the trash. I'd pay her back for them with a few denarii.

Nico, who had gotten to his feet and shaken the last signs of exhaustion from his face, set the glass down on the table and said, "Go get Brook. I can't explain this more than once."

His voice was tight. Fatigue, he'd hidden. But not panic.

Hunter looked from me to him and went back upstairs, calling for Brook and Moon to calm down.

I glanced at my half-brother. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Please don't ask me that question."

A silence fell until the others arrived.

"Death Child. Daughter of Darkness," Moon greeted us, using the old title Kronos had given me. Lots of people used it, actually; I didn't like it, but they did. "News is brought?"

Nico sighed and ignored Hunter's gesture to take a seat. His feet shuffled nervously and his words came fast, rushed and dreaded. "Olympus. It's gone."

Hunter frowned. "…Gone? The whole mountain just vanished?"

"No, the elevator did. It's like it never existed. The watchman is gone, too. Annabeth's tried and tried to contact her mother – Annabeth works on remodeling Olympus, since you guys all but destroyed it in August – but even Iris won't answer. The Olympians are just gone."

"Are you positive they're not just ignoring us?" Brook asked, looking confused.

"Dionysus _can't _ignore us. He's been sentenced to be Camp's director," Nico muttered. "We're his punishment. If they're ignoring us so strictly that even he's gone, then something's gone so wrong, you might as well not call it 'ignoring' anymore. You could call it a retreat."

"Huh," Hunter said, taking a seat on a tall stool next to the counter. "So they're all just gone? Even Hades and the Underworld?"

Nico's voice grew tight again. "That's how I found out. Hades is locked tight. I got up early, grabbed some cinnamon rolls from a small shop downtown, and went to visit Charon. He likes it because he thinks being friends with me gets him a pay raise."

"And he wasn't there?" Hunter guessed.

"No, he was. He tried to kill me."

"Maybe he decided you weren't going to affect his paycheck?" Brook suggested.

"Charon's desperate. He'd try anything. When I got there, the doors were locked. And when I knocked, he came flying at the glass with a knife."

"Ouch," Hunter noted.

Nico shrugged and looked around nervously. "With all the spirits escaping, I'm sort of needed down there right now. I usually do some patrolling on the border and see who or what's poking around them. So when Charon wouldn't let me in – and I don't even ride the ferry, I shadow travel – I decided to go try other entrances."

Moon flicked her ears. "You chasing squirrel in tall-wood."

"Or a raccoon," Brook muttered, remembering the movie. Then, to our confused looks, "Tall-wood means tree."

Nico sighed. "I guess so. None of the entrances would open – Orpheus's tunnel, Melinoe's cave, other ones I won't speak of. They were either closed or gone. It's not like any lockdown I've seen before. Something… Something's happened… And whatever it is, it also caused Olympus to shut down. At the same time."

There was silence as that sunk in.

At last, I spoke. My mind was still processing all of it. "…They've been silenced? The Olympians? And Pluto?"

"Every single one. We don't know what happened to them."

_Gaea happened. _The words felt like stones in my throat. Nico had warned me that there was more than we knew. I was supposed to stay silent because someone had a move planned and didn't want it ruined. Now that silence had become a hangman's noose. Now it was too late.

The move had been played, and now, we were all alone. No Olympians to come swooping in and destroy Typhon or turn Kronos's boat over in the East River. No Underworld refuge for Nico. Heck, no longer an Olympus to defend.

We were screwed.

"Well," Hunter said, looking thoughtful. "What does Annabeth think? Does this help her experiments at all?"

The fake experiments. Nico's face twisted in a scowl. "No, it doesn't. Nobody has a clue how it was done. But whatever took Olympus out, we're now here to face it alone. Demigods. Just us."

Us against Gaea? With no help? I really wished he'd shut up.

Brook sighed and sank into the couch. "Wonderful. We're all gonna die. The humans, too, if we're not here to keep demons in check."

Nico hung his head and didn't comment.

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure there's nothing we can do to get Olympus back? It's that or, as Brook put it, die and die quietly. There has to be something."

He looked away and closed his eyes, muttering something inaudible.

Hunter sighed and got up, shuffling through the pantry until she found a box of Cheerios. "Here. Eat this. You look beat."

He took the box and her place on the stool, set the former on the counter, and stared into space.

Hunter sighed and looked at Brook and I. "Well, first things first. Survive as long as we can. Until the threat's gone or Olympus comes back, I think it's fair to say that nobody goes off alone. Clear?"

"Clear," Moon barked, answering for her mistress and herself.

"Clear," I agreed miserably. We weren't going to kill Gaea. And if she'd taken Olympus, it sure as heck wasn't coming back.

Hunter glanced over her shoulder at the panicked Prince of the Underworld. "I don't care what you do. Though I still wouldn't recommend going solo. You're welcome here anytime."

I don't think he heard.

Hunter kept talking to us. "Next; this house is up on a hill. And we're hidden here. Not even Camp Half-Blood knows where we are. It's fine as it is. We have a big parking lot to fight in. We need to set up the perimeter and keep it guarded. Kronos used a time shield, and the other Titans pitched in, but we all know I can't do that. We'll have to work together and come up with something."

I raised my hand tentatively. "Uh, my powers are failing. It might be bad if I'm on guard duty and that happens."

"True. We'll have to give you a small shift, then. Brook? Can the wolves guard?"

Moon barked loudly. "Ha! Guard, wolves can? Ha!"

Brook smiled. "Yes, they can guard."

Hunter returned the expression. "Alright. We can do this. All we've got to do is survive; we've done that before."

"What about Olympus?" Brook asked.

"Olympus has abandoned us. They wouldn't help us even if they had the option," Hunter reminded her. "And we have enough on our plate, don't you think? And what do you think we could do if we tried? Do you know how to awaken the Eternal City?"

"No," Brook mumbled. "I guess not."

"Exactly. There's nothing we could do, even if we wanted to. So back to what I was saying – maybe if we stocked up on canned goods, that wouldn't be a bad idea either-"

"No."

Hunter turned and frowned at Nico. _"…No?"_

"No," he confirmed, getting off the stool. New light shone in his eyes. "We can't abandon them."

"Might I mention that until you saved their sorry buts, they'd abandoned you, too?" Hunter inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Look, I might not be able to get in, but I saw spirits in the Universal Studios with Charon. The Underworld is locked down, but it's still functioning. There's a chance."

"A chance for what? That we'll still wind up there when we're dead?" Hunter scowled.

"That, too," he said, "but if it's still functioning, then there's a chance it's not entirely lost. And there's a way for us to find out what's happened."

Hunter snorted. "Alright. Have fun getting killed. Great lot it'll do when you're stuck inside and can't tell us anything."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, cutting them off. "You can't go off alone. Then you _would _be killed. Whatever's out there is strong enough to take on the gods. Not to mention, you know, the monsters that won't stay dead. You wouldn't last three days."

"Your point?" he asked, almost snarled. "If there's one thing I learned from that war in Manhattan, it's that you can't give up on family. It ends badly. Father and I fight a lot, but I'm still his son, and I still care for the billions of dead, so I'm going."

"But alone-"

"I won't be going alone."

Hunter snapped her jaw shut and glared. She wasn't fond of someone else making the decisions.

"…We couldn't go with you," Brook said.

"Why not? Guys, nobody else is going to investigate the Underworld. We're Father's only hope now. And a bonus – we might just figure out what's wrong with Olympus, too. I know we're the rejects. But someone I trust more than anyone else told me that holding a grudge can be fatal, and I'll stand by that. Gaining rep with them isn't a bad idea."

"That's a good point," Brook said. Moon made a wolf noise and lowered herself to the ground, ears back, yellow eyes focused on her thoughts.

"Lord Hades has rejected us as much as anyone," Hunter muttered. "I don't care if we're his last hope."

"Lord Hades has custody over you, and he fought for it, and he lets you hide from all eyes here with your grandparents. They treated you fairly, at least, which is more than what most people would do, and would appreciate a favor. I can't abandon Father, guys. It's not an option."

"Then go," Hunter said. "We're staying here."

"Hunter," I whispered.

She glared at me. "What?"

"He has a point. And maybe if we're not here, this house won't be a target anymore. It'd keep Granny and Grandpa safe."

Sylvester, who sat on the stair railing, yowled his agreement.

"If we stick together, it'd be safer," Brook piped up. "And where we are doesn't really matter. Except for, you know, Bree and Nico drawing strength from the Underworld still functioning beneath LA."

"Brook, we're demigods, and we're alone. We stick to familiar, high ground. We fight. We survive. We are not required to do anything else."

"You know, whatever force has done this doesn't care that you're the rejects," Nico reminded her softly. "This is what happens in war. You're the only ones who can help me crack into Hades."

"We're the rejects to _Hades,_ though."

"Yeah, well, you've been drafted." He held his head high and glared up at her. "And don't yell at me, or turn on him, or Olympus, because we're not the ones that did it."

"Besides," Brook said, "Hunter, you and Bree aren't demigods."

There was silence.

Nico broke it. "Us rejects are now the only hope left."

She sighed and stormed towards the stairs, scaring Sylvester into bolting under the couch. "You know what? This is a lot to process. Sit here and debate playing hero a little more. I'm going to go sort my thoughts out, the right way, in private." There was the slam of a door as she entered her room.

"Who peed in her Cheerios?" Brook muttered.

"Control freak?" Nico guessed.

I shook my head. "No, no, it's more than that. I'll go talk to her."

"Point out that Hades is her grandfather," Nico advised as I started up the stairs.

"I'm sorry, but did you just attempt to teach me how to_ argue?"_

He wisely did not answer that.

When I got to Hunter's room, I found the door unlocked. She was in the mood to talk to me. So I strode in, carefully shutting it behind me, to find her staring at the snowy streets out her window.

"…Hunter…?" I asked tentatively.

She turned to me with guarded eyes. Now, Hunter hadn't cried for as long as I'd known her, and though she looked close, she wasn't now. But it was shocking to see. We stared at one another in shock for a moment.

Then the guard fell away. Open, free thoughts flowed past her irises. I saw doubt and fear and pain.

"I can't leave this house," she whispered. "I can't just leave."

"Hunter, I know we can't enter the Underworld, but our restrictions said nothing about helping Nico open it."

"That's not what I meant." She took a deep breath and held her magic pencil between us. "It's… It's this."

I frowned. "What's wrong with Anonymous?"

"Bree, we use weapons made by Kronos. We fight with minds and tactics he taught us. You and I, he rewired us. You were right to question the stuff I kept. I thought, maybe, if I had something to hold on to I'd move on, but…"

Realization dawned on me. Her venomous words. Wasn't there some famous saying about how anger was only fear aimed outwards?

"Hunter, Ethan rewired us, too."

"But who raised us? Who watched us and guided us all our lives? Who was there that first year our lives really mattered? Kronos. We're still his, Bree. Don't lie to me. If we go out there and go too fast, start poking at the unknown, we're going to lose ourselves. We're going to follow the one thing we know; his way. I'm my father's daughter. Even before Nico pointed it out, I knew… I could see it. Gaining rep with Olympus. Scooting closer and gaining freedom. Not because I cared for them, but because it's a good position to be in. It's manipulative and sneaky and it's something _he _would've done."

I swallowed thickly. "His influence…"

"Is strong. In all of us. We go out there, and we'll do something we regret. We can't just run off questing."

I stepped forward and, without thinking, hugged her. "Don't think like that. We got rid of him once, remember? We denounced him. We turned him away. It's not like we're splitting up, either; if we stay together, we can do it again."

"We're not together, Bree. Ethan isn't here."

I flinched. "He… He is. He's got to be somewhere. If Kronos is still in us, then Ethan is, too. We can do this."

I don't play the optimist well. But I can play the thick-headed, stubborn idiot who attempts the impossible.

She sighed. "Do you really believe that?"

"I'm not going to take no for an answer."

She chuckled just once, squeezing my shoulders. "Alright. So do you think this trip is worth it?"

"If we get the Underworld open, save the world, gain Hades's approval, and avoid death by whatever plans this threat has for us, then yes, it's very worthwhile."

Two minutes later we were plodding down the stairs again. Brook was in the living room, overseeing a fight between Moon and Nico. Hunter cleared her throat and they all fell silent, staring up at us.

Hunter stared back down at them with careful golden eyes. "We're going to LA."

oOo

**Nyx: Woot! I like that chapter.**

**Nic: I think the plot is much more obvious now.**

**Nyx: Or is it? DUN DUN DUN! Anyway, it's a little late. Here's why; I was lazy last night and didn't finish writing it. I found myself playing with my cat (he was begging me all day to play with and pet him) and texting Nic and reading. Good news, though; I got up at like five thirty today, on my own, with no alarm clock! I read a little more and then wrote this. Yay! I am happy!**

**Nic: I noticed. I'm guessing the cat is, too.**

**Nyx: Yep. He slept on my feet last night :3**

**Nic: Anyways, we have the new poll up, if anyone's interested. It's sort of crack-fic-ish. Crack-poll-ish. Whatever you'd like to call it.**

**Nyx: Please do R & R! We love to hear what you have to say! It's very much appreciated.**

**Nic: Free Altoid cans to those who review!**

**Nyx: *steals Altoid cans* Noooo! No free Altoids!**

**Nic: Well, virtual cans, anyway.**

**Nyx: *hiding Altoids behind back* I'm gonna go work on the next chapter now. And the cover. And breakfast. I'm hungry.**

**Nic: Stroganoff?**

**Nyx: No, I was thinking cereal. I don't want Demeter mad at me.**


	22. Chances

**DISCLAIMER: Guess who owns PJatO and HoO? No, despite our awesomeness, it's not us. It's Rick Riordan.**

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**Emoxkitten - :3**

oOo

She had gotten lucky.

LA was a big city. Of course, you didn't have to travel the whole thing daily, but she did. She never slept in the same place twice in a row. Nor did she get her food in quite the same way every day. If she was ever forced to, she'd spend that day hungry. That plus the fact that she went out of her way to avoid people made her daily travels great and tiring escapades. Sometimes she didn't really know where she was going until she got there.

Luck, pure luck, that she'd been in the right place at the right time. _If this keeps happening,_ she thought, _maybe one day I'll believe in luck. Or just really, really happy Fates._

She'd been walking down the street, at the edge, trudging through the water in the ditch. Not many people were out right now. She knew they were there, peering at her suspiciously from behind the blinds and curtains of their apartments, but no one bothered her. Nor did they feel concerned for the lone child. As she walked, she passed an old abandoned post office. Someone poor soul had decided to keep putting the newspapers in the bin there; today, the murders had finally made the front page. She laughed at the humans' guesswork. As if they'd ever catch the culprit.

Then she heard voices from behind her.

Silently, she slid down into the ditch. The camouflage jacket blended in well with the nasty, dirty water. She quickly grabbed some mud and threw it over her hair in hopes of breaking its texture and too-rich-brown color. Then some mud on her face and, lying on her belly in the muck, sunk to eye-level in the water.

The people who'd been down the street sounded as if they were arguing.

"…Said you knew where it was!"

"I said I knew there were places _here,"_ retorted another voice. She perked up; she knew that one. That was the Ghost King. "But as I've said, I don't tend to stay in them."

"Well, where might they be?" sighed a new voice, exasperated.

"Uh…" Nico said.

The new, little voice answered its own question. "Well, they're called 'secret bases' or 'hidden refuges' because they are _secret _and _hidden._ So it stands to reason that they wouldn't be too close to the Universal Studios, where Charon holds his ferry. And the whole city is above the Underworld, so they could be all over the place from Long Beach to North Valley. And since demigods tend to be famous, they're probably a few in, like, Santa Monica or Beverly Hills or something."

There was silence before Nico replied. "…I don't know those places."

"I thought you said this was your city!" said the first voice, exasperated. It sent chills down her back.

"I did! I know my way around! I just didn't memorize the official names for anything! I know this row with the houses with red roofs and that donut shop a few blocks that way and the tall towers in the center, and that's it."

Slowly, careful to make no noise, she slid forward and began to crawl up the ditch's muddy bank. When she was as high up as she dared be, they were still out of sight.

The little voice played peacemaker. "Don't you have a map, Nico?"

"I do," he grumbled. Their footsteps stopped and there was shuffling. She listened carefully – they were across the street but still on the road. If it were anyone else, she'd have guessed it was a few kids late to a Halloween party.

But as far as she knew, the Ghost King didn't go to parties. Maybe the ones in Elysium, but no, not up here. Not living parties.

Nor did she think there was a party in any of these secret bases.

"Here it is," Nico said, sounding relieved. There was the crinkle of paper as he opened a map.

Slowly, knowing they would be focused on the lines and words, she crept even higher. The ditch's mud was warm on her stomach after the water. The grey street was a great line across her vision. Just a little more…

…And there they were, huddled around a giant map that could've served as a tablecloth. Nico had it crinkled in his hands and was scowling at it.

A tall blonde girl with caramel and brown streaks in her hair smacked him upside the head. "It's upside-down, genius." The chilling voice. A strange feeling started in her stomach.

"I knew that," Nico muttered, turning the map around. A girl his height with his face and his hair leaned in and studied it with large, curious eyes. Oh, she knew this one. Bree, she'd been called. The dangerous one that wasn't a Titan. The girl in the ditch had heard the rumors of the Ghost King's past – she knew exactly what Hades had meant when he'd said Bree was dangerous. She certainly looked dangerous.

"Guys?" said the small voice. It belonged to a curly-haired brunet in a silver jacket. A matching bow, quiver, and set of arrows was slung over her back. At her feet was…

…A wolf!

She cursed and put more mud on her face, praying that it would hide the scent. And then she prayed that Artemis – because she knew very well what Artemis looked like – wouldn't catch her scent, either.

The odd trio looked up from the map, giving Artemis their full attention.

Artemis pointed down the street. "We could have Moon scent out a few places. She knows what your magic smells like."

Nico and Bree exchanged glances before helping one another fold away the huge map. The blonde girl nodded and took up position behind Moon, next to Artemis. The girl thought it was strange, seeing Artemis hand over leadership, but that's what she seemed to do.

Moon barked happily, sniffed the cuff of Nico's jeans, and set off down the street and a quick trot. The others rushed to follow.

As they went she lifted herself almost all the way out of the ditch, staring at their backs. She counted them and named them off.

One, Nico. The Ghost King. Two, Bree, the quiet and dangerous one. Three, Artemis, whatever had brought her to the rest. Four, Moon, the wolf. And that left just one name for the fifth…

After the group had left, she got out of the ditch, drew a paranoid dagger, and set out after them from afar. This was her city as much as Nico's. She could tail them all the way to whatever secret base without being caught.

There had been no mistaking the color of the blonde girl's eyes. It wasn't natural. Nor was the edge in her voice. And the way she'd held herself; the girl from the ditch had only seen that once before. She was sure.

Hunter, the Daughter of Time.

She'd found her target at last.

oOo

"Ugh!" Hunter said. "At last!"

Brook frowned at the empty sign sitting on the rickety fence before the medium-sized house. The letters had been removed but the paint had faded, and if you squinted, you could make out the letters. "…Uh… Tell me if I'm reading that wrong, but does that say…?"

"Funeral Home? Yep," Nico said. "We've got the complete morgue and mortuary set inside each base. For one, the dead are our subjects, and they're not to be mistreated. And then there's the advantage it brings. It always helps to have a few extra allies down the hall."

"…I bet it is…" Brook murmured, still staring at the sign.

"Come on," Nico said, waving us forward. The driveway was old and the gravel was dirty, but his feet made no sound on its stones. Neither did mine. Not even when I stomped on them. Brook and Hunter, however, no matter how hard they tried, made loud noises with each step. The grass on either side had been kept but was a sickly grayish green color. The house itself looked new and proud, glistening in its coat of light blue paint. It didn't really stand out much on this street.

Hunter snorted when he opened the door. "Top-secret bases for Children of the Underworld, stupid magic driveway alarm system, and the doors are unlocked."

"Not quite," Nico said, giving her his Cheshire smile. He held up his fingers. "Magic touch."

Hunter grumbled and marched past him into the house. She was still in a bad mood, for whatever reason. Maybe she wished she'd gone trick-or-treating tonight.

Brook followed her in. Nico and I met one another's eyes outside, and then hurried to catch up.

"It's a nice place," Hunter was musing, looking at the flat-screen TV in the living room. "You said these things haven't been used since World War II?"

"That's true, but they usually have a few ghosts wandering around to keep the place clean," Nico explained. "In fact… There ought to be a few here."

"Ghosts!" Moon howled. "Ghosts! Come out, ghosts!"

"They're not here, though," Nico said, silencing her. "They must've been called back earlier when the Underworld shut down."

I looked around the room. The house was much bigger on the inside; the living room alone was quite spacious. The blue carpet fit well with the black walls and furniture. The coffee table looked as slick and polished as my violin. Above the television, stairs led up to a second floor. To my left, the wall was open, leaving easy access to the kitchen and dining room.

Whatever ghost had kept this place, they'd done a good job.

My stomach rumbled angrily at me. I sighed and set down my bag – didn't carry much on me – and violin case down next to the couch. Shadow traveling behind Nico all the way to LA with my sisters in tow had left me tired. Nectar could fix that. But I also needed food.

"So where do they keep the bodies?" Hunter asked.

Nico grimaced at her choice of words. "Usually in the basement." As if he were reading my mind, he drifted towards the kitchen. I followed.

"You know an awful lot about these places," Brook said.

"I make it my business to educate myself on these things," Nico explained dryly. "For one, our kind – Children of the Underworld – were unique and separated from other demigods long enough to develop an entirely different culture. There's a complex system of rules and guidelines to how the Underworld works and the tasks that we do. And then there're these safe-houses. Most were destroyed after the war, and the last few once Hades got a cabin up at Camp, but nobody dared touch the ones here in LA."

The kitchen had a light wooden floor and, as the living room, black walls. The table was crafted much like the one in the living room. A small door to the side led to what looked like a bathroom. A screen door near the sink revealed a grassy plain and a few trees behind the house. And yet another door, made of black metal – Stygian iron – was shut tightly.

"That," Nico said as my gaze landed on it, "would be where they keep the bodies, Hunter. And before you ask, no, there are none here. I'd be able to tell if there were."

"So are you going to, ah, reopen shop?" she smirked.

"No. We're currently in a state of emergency. I think the humans can handle it for now."

"Alright, then," she said, and clapped her hands. We turned to her. "Let's head upstairs and get our stuff put away. Meet back down here by… Five-fifteen, 'kay? We'll discuss our plan of action."

"Okay," Brook said. Moon nuzzled her. "I wish we could call Granny."

"Yeah, well. We can't. We explained it all to her, though; she knows not to worry too much," Hunter said soothingly. "You shouldn't worry, either."

"Hm," she said absently, and moved back for the living room stairs. With nothing else to do, I followed, grabbing my bags on the way.

There were ten bedrooms upstairs. I kid you not. There must've been some enchantment that made the house appear smaller than it really was. But there was a really long hallway, full of more Stygian iron doors sealed tight, and plenty of room. Hunter and Brook immediately went to exploring each one. I just found the nearest one – close to the stairs, a good escape route – and closed the door behind me.

Unlike the one leading to the basement, these doors had doorknobs that weren't killer metal. They locked easily. I flicked the switch on it and strode to the bed in the room. That was all there was, save a small dresser. I set my violin against the side, dropped my bag on the floor, and flopped down. Ugh. It felt really nice.

Eventually I got up and moved the violin to the edge of the dresser, left the bag neatly beside it, and explored the small bathroom attached to the empty space. It held just the essentials; small tub, a toilet, and a sink with itty-bitty cabinets. All done in the traditional black-and-pretty-dark-blue style.

By the time I ventured downstairs, Brook and Hunter were still exploring (currently reveling in the fact that the walls were soundproof) and Nico had decided to watch the television.

"You know," I said, "it might work if you turn it on."

He shook his head. "It's not just a television, Sis. Ach – _Bree._ Sorry."

For fear of setting him off, I didn't comment and joined him behind the couch. "So. What are you watching, then?"

"You know those skeletons? The ones that fought with us in the Battle of Manhattan?"

"Yep," I said, very familiar with them. 'Skeletons' was what we called them, because that's what they looked like. But he and I knew the complex spirit-in-armor-bound-to-serve-us crap. "What about them?"

"Well, when I'm in Hades, or if there's a bunch of them like there were in New York, I can connect myself to their minds. I have to be very close. The mental connection actually helps me cast spells."

I nodded. "I remember that from when Kronos made me summon skeletal horses."

"Right. Well, usually, when we're connected, I can look out of anyone that I choose to. See what they see. But when you're not in the Underworld and so far from who you want to look out of, it just doesn't work. This thing here is like a direct connection. No Iris involved. It's tied to the Underworld and to its servants. I could use it to talk to Father, or look through the guards at the palace, or send out a scout and watch what they see from here."

"That's cool," I said, cocking my head to one side and trying to see the portal he was describing. If I squinted, I could kind of see… A frame of bones…

He sighed heavily. "But it's not working. The connection's been severed."

Silence.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize or feel bad for what isn't your fault," he advised, and walked away from this most recent failure. Freaking hypocrite.

I stayed on his heels. "So should we… Tell the others? Now that the move has been made?"

"I would, but I think…" To my shock, he seemed to choke. "…Father knew this was coming."

"…What?"

"That's why we started cramming everything so fast. Because he told me to." Nico sat heavily in one of the dining room chairs. "He knew, at least something… But he never told me…"

I sat down next to him. He had put his head in his arms, slumped over the table. Tiredness edged his voice from the shadow travel. But now I heard the high-pitched strain again. He was upset. "I'm sure he wouldn't just hide it. He told you to cram, right? He tried to prepare us?"

Nico said two, very dirty words about his father and peeked over his elbow at me. "Yeah. I guess he tried."

"You know, you tell me all the time that he doesn't hate me. That he's just caught between a rock and a hard place. I don't think he meant to leave you like this."

"Oh, I understand that. What bothers me is the fact that he didn't trust me with the full information. And he was too stubborn to admit that that's what I needed. What are we going to do out here? You and I both know that even if we crack into the Underworld, this'll be far from over. And we won't. So long Gaea doesn't want it cracked, it won't be cracked."

"Then why did you drag us down here?"

"Because I had to do _something,"_ he whined into his hand. "Even if he no longer trusts me. Gods, I've screwed up."

"Maybe he does trust you. Maybe he knew that this… That cramming was all we had to do. Maybe he knows you don't need more than what you have. That he trusts you to work with so little and make it. And he's hoping that you can trust him back."

"You're lying to me."

"Okay, fine, you caught me. So maybe it's just an idea. Maybe I don't have faith in him either. But if you're so sure you and him had something, then that has to be the answer. Give me better material to work with next time, if you're not satisfied."

At that moment, we heard Hunter and Brook come down the stairs. I fell quiet and he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Both of my sisters had wide smiles on their faces. "This is the best secret war base _ever."_

"It's not exactly a _war _base," Nico muttered, but they ignored him.

"So are we going to explore the basement?" Brook asked as she sat down. "I mean, if a ghost occupied this place until really early this morning like you said, then there might be some sort of evidence somewhere. And there's none up here."

"No," Nico said. "Nobody disturbs the morgue, whether it's occupied or not. Admittedly it'd be the perfect place to leave a secret message. But this ghost was under Father's command and not mine. Nor would they have any information."

"Okay," Brook said, sounding like she didn't believe it. Moon barked her support.

Hunter shook her head and leaned over the table, planting her hands on it and glaring at us all. "Alright. So. Let's brainstorm. Ideas?"

"We could try to summon spirits from the Underworld," I suggested.

"It doesn't work," came Nico's immediate answer.

"Skeletons?"

"I managed to get one earlier. But its mind was sealed and blocked from mine. Someone with big Underworld powers didn't want me communicating with it."

"I like this track, though," Hunter said. "Since the dead are the ones that got us out here, they're our best bet. Do you still find strength from graveyards?"

"…That I do," he agreed.

"What about trapped spirits?" I said. "What about those like Shane?"

He frowned and looked between Hunter and I. "…I haven't actually tried that yet."

"Bingo. There's one idea. Ghost hunting," Hunter said. "That has to be done at night."

"Most things we do here will have to be done at night," Nico pointed out.

"Okay, enough said. Do we want to try that tonight?"

"Don't see why not," he said. "I could take Bree with me. Can you and Brook hold the fort here?"

"Please. Don't insult us," she sniffed. "Of course we can. If there's anything we can do here… What on earth…?"

Her gaze landed on something above our heads. We all turned to see what it was. There, taped to the outside of the window, was a flyer.

Nico, of course, drew his sword and growled at it.

"Chill," Brook said, walking over. "It's just advertising a Halloween party. Some human probably stuck it on there to gain a few more guests."

Hunter followed her and shook her head. "Nope. There's Greek writing at the bottom."

We all gathered around the window, staring.

"_Meet me tonight. Empousa, enchantress, Charon, ghost. I'll know to look for those costumes. I think we can help one another,"_ Hunter read aloud. "Nobody's signed it."

"It's a trap," Nico said flatly.

"Well, yes, it could be," Hunter mused. "I'm not entirely sure how they would ever expect us to thrown an empousa costume together."

"Guys, we have to go," Brook said.

"And get killed on our first day? No thanks," Nico scowled.

She shook her head. "Whether it's a trap or not, there's information to be gathered. Solid, definite information. More promising than a ghost hunt."

"There's also a solid chance we could be killed," I pointed out.

"Not if we're smart," Hunter drawled. A huge grin had crossed her face. That expression made me wish I had a good place to hide.

Nico was glancing at us, the flyer, then to us. "…I still don't like it."

"Neither do I," Hunter said, "but I'm in the mood to party, and Brook has a point. We can hold the ghost hunt for a few hours. I've got an idea."

"Everybody duck for cover," I muttered.

"Explosives not, please," Moon begged.

Hunter's wide grin grew larger. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, no explosives this time."

That usually indicated flat-out murder from her, but we stayed silent and listened.

"We're going to do as we're told," she beamed.

"Yep, that settles it," Brook sighed. "The world is definitely ending."

oOo

**Nyx: I finished this yesterday. Saw a review mentioning the next chapter this morning. So I checked it for typos and decided to post. See, I told y'all things would speed up, now that I have my computer.**

**Nic: You wrote all this yesterday? What about the cover?**

**Nyx: I started it, but I'm gonna scratch what I did yesterday. I'm still learning. Drawing reptiles is very hard. I know I've done it before, but I'm hoping I don't have to do it the way I did then, because it took FOREVER. If you look at Chris Scalf or another graphic artist's work, they can do it in like one to four hours. I spend like twenty on my pictures, and they're not half as good. Clearly, I am still learning.**

**Nic: Oh, psh. You'll do fine. *pats head* You happen to have me; the BEST teacher EVER!**

**Nyx: I guess I do. That and the interwebs. Anyway, enjoy the extra chapter. Thursday will still have an update. Please R & R, guys! It's very much appreciated!**

**Nic: See y'all Thursday.**


	23. Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: Heeeey guess what. Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO.**

oOo

"Oh… My… Gods."

Nico grit his teeth and clenched his fists. "_Don't – say – anything!"_

I failed to stifle a laugh. "Are you… wearing _eyeliner?"_

"Shut up!"

"And… Your hair…" I was too busy laughing to talk straight.

A deep-throated growl echoed through the house, bouncing off the shadows and ringing loudly in the air.

"Do you like it?" Hunter asked before he could follow through with that threat. She strode in from the bathroom. "I think it looks great."

I giggled once more and nodded. "I love it."

"Said the gothic one," Brook muttered.

I didn't really see her point. The black lines on the edges of his eyelids – both top and bottom, for Hunter knew how to work makeup – made his eyes stand out and made them the most achingly elegant shape. Fierce and untouchable, but pretty. The color of his lips was now a dark crimson. More of a black, actually. Hunter had also cut off the very tips of his hair – like not even half an inch – and then brushed it into place. Oh, it still looked mess. It still looked like Nico. And it fell across his face perfectly and without the slightest effort. That, plus the rest of the makeup made his pale skin jump out. The look was completed by his lack of aviator's jacket (he had set it on the mantel beneath the TV claiming it would be protected there), the dark cloak draped over his shoulders, very Severus Snape-like, and the white fangs attached to his teeth via clear strips.

Vampire. A real vampire. Not the sparkly kind.

"It looks awesome," I said after a moment of silence.

Nico sighed. "Remind me why we're doing this again?"

"So we can gain information and save the sorry world," Hunter said, pulling on her hood. She was entirely covered with a heavier, longer, thicker black cloak. A giant hood fell over her head and plunged her face into shadow. Only her wide, sickeningly white smirk stood out. "I mean, if it is a trap, we can't just walk into it."

"Still not following you," he pouted.

"Look, we're demigods, right? We're the combination of modern and ancient times. And since Olympus is dead, the only friendly forces left are other demigods and nature spirits. And nature spirits hate us. So if this is a friendly person, they're a demigod. The flyer asked for ancient monsters. So, true to demigod culture, we are the modern versions of those monsters. A demigod could recognize us easily. The modern version of the empousa is the vampire; that's what you are."

"You're wrong," Brook muttered. "There could be other friendly stuff out there."

"Stuff that'd mess with Nico, Bree, and I all at once? Nope," Hunter said simply. She picked up her makeshift costume scythe – a thing of cardboard and tinfoil. Obviously, her real scythe would be a dead giveaway to anyone. "So friendly forces will recognize us. Charon turned into the Grim Reaper; empousa into vampire; enchantress into… well, a witch, nothing more than a different outfit; and a ghost… Well, I'm working on that one. But a monster? Maybe we'd smell, but they obviously want us dressed up for a reason, and we have just deprived them of whatever that luxury might've been."

"You could toss a sheet over Brook," Nico sighed. "Ghosts don't really look like that, but apparently, humans think they do."

"Good, then we're settled. Moon, go get a couple sheets from the spare rooms. Bree, go get your costume on. It's in my bag."

"Of course," I muttered. "I knew you weren't planning on giving up Halloween."

She gave me that wicked smile. "I got Kronos into a squirrel suit last year. I can't let any chance to top that go to waste."

I locked myself in the small bathroom in the kitchen – I could still hear them talking outside in the dining room – and shuffled through the black duffle bag set on the counter. Here was a ghost costume with frilly lace… A creepy zombie mask… A cat mask… Dang, she'd brought the whole dang costume box... Well, that explained where she'd gotten Nico's cloak…

There. The witch costume I'd been planning to wear tonight anyway. A simple black shirt, skirt, and leggings set I had accented on the edges with purple paint. It'd been bright neon to start but now had faded to a nice dark color that matched my eyes. Oh, I'd nearly forgotten how fun Halloween costumes could be…

I threw on the costume, applied makeup, and then slipped my hands into the gloves. By the time I emerged, the clock in the kitchen read _5:45_. We were making good time.

Then I caught sight of Brook all but drowned in a white bed sheet and burst out laughing.

She turned and gave me a finger, glaring through the cut-out eye holes. Hunter laughed at her.

Then Nico turned and his beautiful eyes widened. "Oh, _hell _no. Absolutely not."

I frowned. "What? Is it obvious I painted the accents?"

"Do you plan on wearing that in public?" he asked, absolutely horrified. "That skirt?"

"…What's wrong with the skirt?"

"It's so short!"

I frowned down at my outfit. The one day of the year I cared what I looked like, the one day I dared wear a skirt, and this is what happened. "Uh… It's down to my knees. I think that's long enough. Especially considering we might end up fighting tonight."

"Yeah, well, I say it's too short. Find something else."

"I'm sorry, but did you just give me an _order_?"

"I did."

"You know what?" I spat, crossing my arms. "This isn't your business. Bug off."

"It _is _by business!" he snapped. "There's no way you can wear that out in public!"

"Yes, there is," I said. "It's perfectly fine."

"Uh, opinion?" Brook asked. She didn't find this funny or serious. Unlike Hunter, who was doubled over and shaking with stifled laughs. "I think it's too long. There's no way you can fight in that."

I flicked my hand in dismissal. "It comes off easily, just like your sheet and the cloaks. The leggings are flexible enough."

"You plan on taking that _off?!"_ Nico yelled, outraged.

Hunter's laughs burst out of her like the eruption of a volcano. She put a hand on the table to steady herself.

I sighed. "Well, if it'd save my life, yes. And chill. I guarantee you it'll be the longest, most conservative skirt there."

"I don't _care _what other girls are wearing!" Nico snapped. "_You're _not wearing _that!"_

"You know what? I'm done talking to you. It really shouldn't matter."

"The hell it does! You're not leaving this house until you change!"

"Guys!" Hunter gasped through her hysterics. "It'll… be fine…"

Nico whipped around to glare at her, making his cape swish through the air. His voice turned into that low, echoed growl again. "No. No it won't."

She held up her hands. "Fine. How about a bet? You win, we come straight back here and do the ghost hunting thing. In pants. If I win-"

"We're not making bets," I said before she could finish.

Nico glared at me again. "Go change the skirt. Now."

"Dude, she's okay," Hunter chuckled. "She's a demigod. No human guy is going to touch her."

His scowl deepened. "Are you sure?"

"I swear on the Styx, I'll smack any guy I find staring at me that way tonight," I sighed. "Now can we please go? I don't like waiting."

"We're going," Hunter said, not waiting for his approval, and marched out the door.

oOo

The air was cold.

For a while the lone streets were blue and dark and peacefully quiet, nothing but the noise of the busier streets drifting in the wind. As we headed towards the city, though, things turned bright neon yellow and orange and red and blue and headlights blazed and cars gleamed under it all. Noise battered and tore at my ears like a furious sphinx. And despite all the light, the wind was still chilly.

As soon as Nico noticed, he told me to take his cloak. Knowing that wasn't why he'd offered, I refused to talk to him.

Though the street was busier than the one with the abandoned funeral home, it was still on the milder side of the city. The building was a warehouse that rented out. Tonight, a high school club had taken it for a fundraiser. I could hear the music and smell the sugary treats before we even reached the door.

"Admission," said a man dressed as a zombie outside the door. He then scowled at Hunter's toy scythe. "No weapons allowed."

"It's fake," she said, bending the cardboard. She couldn't help that cold, creepy, shining smile. Not a glint of her golden eyes could be seen under the hood.

He sighed and took the drachma Nico handed him. "…What is this?"

"It's Canadian money," Brook offered. "You can use it here in the States."

With a grunt he motioned for us to enter. Before we could, an anime cosplayer jumped in our way. She yelled with a loud, too-excited voice, "Welcome to the Bickerwood High Halloween Fundraiser! Our theme this year is the 'Daylight Disaster'!" Her blue hair fell in her face but she seemed indifferent, shoving a paper into my face. "If he catches you, you have to get up on stage and sing, no exceptions! But if you can catch him, you win a twenty dollar gift card to a store of your choice!"

I leaned back, staring at the horrid English scribbles. "…Uh…"

"'Daylight Disaster'?" Hunter quoted incredulously.

The girl scowled at her. "Thanks for pointing that out. But the idea was great and it was relevant and we just couldn't reschedule so late. Sorry." She dumped the paper into my hands and pounced at the next guest in line.

We were ushered inside, looking back at her in bewilderment.

The warehouse was filled with lights. Many colors, all pulsing, all flashing, all casting dancing designs across the floor and crowded dancers. One side of the giant room was filled with tables cloaked in black and covered with goodies. Up on the makeshift stage were two speakers that could've belonged to Apollo himself; great amounts of bass and an ear-shattering volume was bursting out. Some mainstream rap song.

Nico looked around with wide eyes and didn't say a word, shocked into utter stillness.

"What'da we do now?!" Brook yelled over the music.

Hunter stole the paper still in my hands before answering. She read the front page twice.

"What?" I asked.

She held it out and displayed the picture; seven different people, the youngest my age and the oldest in his sixties. Boys and girls alike. "The article," Hunter yelled, "is about a murderer. They've killed these seven in the past week. Every single time, there's this huge and ugly mess left. And they do it all in broad daylight. This is what the party's themed after!"

Something cold ran down the back of my spine. I swear, I could hear that cracked, broken voice whispering in my ear. _To death are heroes damned by day._

I shook off the prophecy line and looked around. "Well, I hope the theme guy doesn't get us. Nobody would thank us for the song."

"No," she agreed, looking around. "Listen up, guys! Here's the plan."

Nico, who was still staring it utter shock at the dancing people and flashing lights, at last glanced back at her. His eyes two wide, round saucers. He didn't dare speak.

"Now, the back table there holding the bread pudding? That's our base. Return there if you find something or want to regroup," Hunter told us. Her red lips pulled back over that strange smile again. The shadows across her face shifted as the lights went wild. "I want to search the place for anyone suspicious first. I'll take the quarter of the warehouse over there by the right side of the stage. Bree, take the left stage quarter. Nico, left back. Brook, right back. Bree and I will also sneak backstage and check there. Remember to look at everyone, in every corner, and up at the ceiling. We clear?"

"No," Nico said, retreating to one side to avoid the flailing arm of a dancing werewolf.

"Great! Let's go!" Hunter cheered, and marched confidently into the crowd. Brook followed suit.

Knowing I ought not to leave my brother alone, I turned to face him. His eyes had narrowed and he had that usual calm, indifferent look about him. But I caught sight of his chest moving too fast. His gaze landed on me.

I laughed. "Easy. It's alright."

"What… What are the lights?" he asked, glancing up at them.

"I think some of them are strobes. See the ones that flash? And others are lasers, like those lines over there."

"…I didn't know that was possible… Do they hurt people?"

"Not usually," I chuckled. "Come on. Let's search our quadrants together. You won't be alone, and I get the snack bar. Fair deal. Let's go."

Someone up on stage grabbed a mic and started to sing along. I guess the Daylight Disaster had found their first target.

Nico took guard while I devoured three slices of pumpkin pie. When I was done we set out among our half of the warehouse, ducking between limbs and dancing couples, forced to move in time with this strange music. It'd been a long while since I listened to rap. I'd never found it that appealing. But it had a steady beat, and I knew how to work with that.

My fellow vampire stayed within reach but eventually managed to get himself under control, sliding around the floor with me as he had when battling the Cyclopes. Sharp eyes darted back and forth in a chilling way that said they missed nothing despite the chaos. And, eventually, I felt the connection between us. I didn't have to look or make a conscious decision. He would wander a little more to the right to study someone and I would follow instinctively. Then we'd move back to our original space. We knew where to find one another, where the other was, and where we needed to be.

It made progress go fast.

Backstage was easy to investigate. The live band back there (a surprise volunteer group, thankfully equipped with heavy metal instruments rather than a beat box) asked what we were doing. They let us pass when I told them we were searching for the Daylight Disaster guest. They smiled and let us go on. Nico glared at them.

On our way back to the rendezvous point, an eccentric young man confronted us. He looked like a senior to me. He was also dressed as a vampire; his hair was blown back and his skin glittered under the flailing lights. He wore the Cullen's crest – a lion – around his neck. "Hey, guys! I haven't seen you before!"

"And you won't see us again," Nico replied smoothly, walking around him. "Come on, Bree."

"Did y'all try the brownies?" he asked, ignoring that. "My friend Bethany brought them in. They. Are. Awesome."

"I'm sure they are," I said, understanding in an instant. I'm pretty sure I didn't want those brownies. "I was just heading to the snack bar, anyway."

"I could go with you guys!" he crowed, holding his hands in the air and spilling his soda.

"No, thanks," I said. "Really, we're good."

Behind him, Nico was motioning for me to slap the guy and walk off.

The kid saw my glance and turned before Nico could stop the signal. His face fell. "Aw, fine. Killjoy." He patted my shoulder once as he walked away.

Nico snorted. "Idiot."

"Well, I didn't notice him looking, so it's fine," I retorted. "It still isn't your business, anyway." And with that we went on our way.

Brook and Hunter were already there. Naturally, the candy corn was already half gone and the Grim Reaper had already moved on to the next nearest sweet.

I took the brownie from her hands before she could bite. "I wouldn't eat those."

She laughed at me and left them be, now attacking the bread pudding. "So, did you find anything?"

"Nope. Though the way people are coming in, it wouldn't be useless to search again."

She shook her head. "No. Let's stay here. Whoever's looking for us will be looking for us. We can wait for them."

"Hey," Brook said, pointing at my back. "What's that?"

I turned. "Hm?"

"A yellow dot. On your shoulder blade."

I shrugged. "I don't know. They were throwing confetti earlier." I found myself a spot against the back wall and scanned the room, waiting as I'd been told. Nico stuck to my left. We made sure to move from table to table and not hog any one for an extended time. Now and then, someone would come up to ask us something, holding flyers or tickets or something or another. Nico would bare his attached fangs or Hunter would flash her pathetic toy scythe and they'd move on their way. The crowd, for the most part, looked to me more of one thing than many bodies; it jumped to the beat and made the same wild yelling and chattering sound and just made one whole unit of chaos.

"You were right about your skirt being the longest," Nico muttered to me at one point, staring at the floor and trying to hide his blush. "I don't like this."

I shrugged. "People will be people."

Then, before he could reply, someone spoke into the mic. The band's singer. He announced a song and his lead guitarist started to play.

Hunter and I raised our hands and cheered. Thank the gods! Real music!

We swayed to the beat of the first song and tapped our feet. The band had a nice sound; sturdy base and filling guitar, and a melodious voice that wasn't afraid to scream the accents on the ends of the verses. The unfamiliar song was comforting to me somehow.

They then announced that they'd play their rock-ified cover of a dance song. People began to get into groups. I think I knew the song they were referencing.

Hunter raised an eyebrow at me. "You remember the sixth grade?"

"That I do," I smiled. Oh, we weren't perfect dancers. But it was a fun thing to try.

As the beat began to form, we moved out from the tables and to the back of the dance floor. Brook, who knew what we were doing, followed eagerly. Nico skulked on her heels like an angry, nervous cat.

"What're we doing?" he asked as Hunter started to move from foot to foot, feeling the song.

"Dancing!" I replied. "Nobody had to say that waiting had to be boring!"

Hunter had started to incorporate shoulder and arm movements to her dance. Brook joined in beside her. When Nico just stared at me in response, I moved over to them.

Hunter caught my eye. "Do you think that routine we did in the school competition could work here?"

I counted the beats that ended the first verse. "Maybe. We could give it a shot."

Brook, who had upon becoming our friend learned said routine, nodded eagerly. It was a simple thing, really; I closed my eyes to feel the song once more, let it rule my mind for a moment, and fell into the familiar pattern. As I said, dancing is fun, and we had _owned _the dance floor in school, but we weren't perfect. Luckily we knew how to keep in sync and move to the beat and simple things, like crossing one's feet and then spinning, that look complicated. A few arm and shoulder movements and it looks more complicated.

Hunter had been right. Our competition design fit in nicely if we skipped the second phase. It felt good to move to the music. To find a beat. To fall in step with my sisters just to do so, not in an effort to kill something. Or someone. The crowd really was one unit. It moved with us; one beat, one song, one perfect moment where nothing else mattered. In a crowd of strange people and listening to a new song, there was a feeling of comforting familiarity.

It wasn't anything like playing my violin, but I liked it.

Then I opened my eyes to see Nico still pouting next to the tables. I waved him towards the floor.

He glared daggers at me.

I laughed, indicating that he looked ridiculous, and repeated the motion. "Come on!"

"Are you crazy?!" he yelled above the post-chorus guitar rifts.

"Probably! Get out here and give it a try!"

"No."

"Please?" I begged, breaking form and taking an extra two steps forward. "Just give it a shot? At least try to have some fun? It is a party, after all. Eat some sugar if you need further encouragement."

He sighed and walked over. "Fine. How do you do it?"

"You just… Dance. To the music. Hunter, Brook and I have a certain sequence of moves so we can all coordinate with one another."

"I haven't ever seen dancing like this," he said doubtfully.

I laughed again. "Don't worry. You're just a little old-fashioned. And trust me, that's a good thing."

"Old-fashioned," he echoed, tasting the words.

"Here, try this – just start by going from foot to foot with the drums. There you go. No, no, you have to listen to the music. Now try dipping your shoulders and sliding." I showed him, also using my arms. That only confused him, though, and as a result he slowed down and lost the beat.

"Try a little faster," I urged. "Remember; you're working with the music."

By the time the second chorus came by, he'd found at least something to do besides brooding in the corner. "There it is!" I crowed as I moved back to join my sisters, watching him work back and forth to the drums.

He glanced at me nervously, and I offered a smile. Then I turned my focus to my own dance again.

He was still watching, though. He saw me cross my legs and spin. And, to my utter astonishment, decided – on his own – to attempt it.

That ended with him landing on his face and Hunter laughing rather loudly.

I chuckled and offered my hand. "Not bad for your first try. I knocked over like six people on my pioneer attempt."

He grunted and as he stood, I looked around for the person who'd led us here. Still no one in sight. I pushed Nico off towards Hunter – she could help him better than I could – and moved to follow.

A hand landed on my shoulder.

I turned and looked up at the man. He was in a pirate's cloak and wore a giant, feathered hat that hid his eyes from my view. But I saw the light glint off them eagerly. A grin that could rival Hunter's stretched across his face. With a grand sweep of his cloak, he took his hand off me and motioned towards the stage. He spoke with a French accent to match his character. "You're up, my lady."

I blinked at him. "What?"

"You have been tagged by the Daylight Disaster."

"No I haven't."

"That dot on your shoulder, my lady. It is the mark of the murderer."

My mind flashed back to the high Edward Cullen kid slapping me on the shoulder. Oops.

I smiled. "I'm sorry, but I really don't want to sing. Nobody here wants me to either, I guarantee it."

He removed his hand and bowed to me, revealing the eye patch on his right side. I swallowed thickly. "With all due respects, my lady, you have no choice. And I'm sure it won't be that bad." One brown, hopeful eye stared up at me.

"Uh, no thanks," I said, backing off. "Really, I'm fine."

"Nonsense! A beautiful lady like yourself must have some sort of talent to share! You could at least dance for this wonderful crowd," he crowed, and grabbed my shoulder. Slowly but none too gently, he began to pull me towards the stage. "It's time to break a leg!"

oOo

**Nyx: I woke up this morning to discover that I'd fallen asleep writing. I'd gotten out of my chair and gone to pet my cat, who was yowling, and fallen asleep. And then I discovered a D. Grey-Man marathon on the television. Sorry guys. But the chapter's finished now.**

**Nic: I remember this chapter from the rough draft.**

**Nyx: I do, too. It's crack-fic-ish, more fun, less tense. Though there's important stuff. I want to see if anybody caught the hidden identity of a specific character. Please review, guys! It's very much appreciated!**

**Nic: It really is.**

**Nyx: And the next update will not be on Saturday. It'll be on Friday night, because I'll be busy Saturday morning. I think that's all I have to say…**

**Nic: You're forgetting something.**

**Nyx: I am?!**

**Nic: Kol no I'm just messing with you. :p**


	24. Nightmares

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Have fun in Portugal! It's always neat to travel.**

oOo

Out of the corner of my eye, Nico started and looked over his shoulder at us, signaled by the man's voice.

I breathed a sigh of relief as he came over, a silent storm with eyes like armed bombs. Then I got nervous again. Nico was mad. Like, don't-care-if-there-are-witnesses mad.

"Bree? What's going on?" he asked as he came to a stop at my side.

"I, uh, met the Daylight Disaster," I said.

"It is her turn to sing. I was taking her backstage," the man said, frowning at Nico.

My half-brother took my other arm and jerked me roughly towards him. "Yeah, well, she doesn't care. She's staying here."

"It is the rules of the game," the man said sternly, attempting to pull me back. "She must come."

"No, she doesn't," Nico growled.

The man pointed to my shoulder. "She was tagged. She has to come."

"You know what? You can eat the stupid sticker for all I care," Nico snapped, ripping the yellow dot off my shoulder and slapping it onto his sleeve. "We're done here. Come on, Bree."

The man gave him a solid glare. "You came here; you play by the rules."

"I'd rather not," Nico muttered.

"Fine," the man said. "You two wait here. I'll get security." And then he walked away, feathered hat sticking out above the crowd…

…And he was gone.

Nico turned on his heel and stalked back to Hunter and Brook, leaving me to follow. I leapt into a jog to catch up. "Thanks."

He didn't answer, glaring at the air before him. An uneasy feeling turned over in my stomach. The glare he'd given that man, full of hate and something much darker…

…I didn't think he'd done that for me.

"We have to leave. Now," he said as soon as we reached the others. They had kept dancing into the next song.

Hunter didn't question him. "Alright. Stick together. Head for the tables and back towards the front entrance." With that, she waved us to follow, and headed back for the desserts.

"Hunter," Brook warned.

At the door was the man in the pirate suit, talking to the guard outside.

"Backstage," Hunter said immediately. "I saw a door back there. Let's move."

We spread out and began to weave through the crowd, always within the field of view of the others. The packed center of the floor was the hardest to get through. I pushed and prodded, accelerating with them and the song, now aware we were being followed. It was a rising urge in my chest to move, move away, and hide…

We burst through the forest of flailing limbs and together dodged the stage, sliding around and climbing the back stairs. The riot of lights outside had no effect here; cool, dark blue flooded everything, shrouded the band's extra amps and music equipment. I even caught sight of some heavy-duty confetti guns hiding in the gloom.

"There," Hunter said, attacking the doorknob. In two seconds flat she had the padlock picked – not destroyed but _picked _– and swung the door open.

"You're getting slow," I chided as I stepped through the threshold.

"Hey! Stop!"

We turned. The French pirate was standing at the top of the stairs, pointing us and scowling. His eye patch had been lifted to reveal an icy blue eye that stood out next to his brown one.

"Go," Nico hissed, shoving Brook through the door after me. He and Hunter tumbled out like smoke from a fire. She slammed the door behind them and secured the padlock she'd taken on the outside. The door jolted and shook, a loud crash sounding from inside, but held.

For the time being.

I turned to run but was stopped cold. Brick walls framed us on all four sides. Up above, the open sky held no stars. Just the cold, glaring, monstrous light of the city. Cars honked from far off.

"Over here!" Brook yelled, dodging discarded alley junk – an old chair, a trash bag or two – and attacked a corner.

No, not attacked. There was a narrow passage there. She could squeeze through if she turned sideways.

"We can't fit through there," Hunter warned.

Nico, who was still seething, spat, "Let the son of a hellhound come out here! We wanted information, didn't we?"

"Yeah, information," she snapped, "not to get ourselves cornered. And he wasn't supposed to recognize us."

"I don't see how-"

"Who the heck is the guy, anyway?" Brook muttered.

No sooner had she spoken, the door jolted again. There was the screech of tearing metal and Hunter stumbled back from the impact.

A giant dent had been put in the door, bulging outwards from within. Before one of us spoke, there was another crash, and it grew bigger.

"Get ready to ambush," Hunter said, and disappeared into the shadows behind the trash bags. Brook leapt up and clung to the warehouse wall just left of the door. She climbed up, scrabbling on the sliding, until she found herself a windowsill to perch on. A soft whistle sounded. Answering the sweet call, silver wolves blurred into existence out of thin air. Their glorious fur gleamed until they, too, disappeared into hiding places.

Nico and I fell into Shadow Form, guarded either side of the door.

Questions burned on my tongue. He knew something. Who was the man?

Was he a servant of Gaea's?

But the shadows hadn't ever spoken to me before. It'd make my voice echo and give us away. Despite the unsolved puzzles swirling in my head and begging to be released, I now had no way to ask him.

And then, in a moment where I couldn't hold it in anymore, a strange rumbling ran through my chest. The shadows flicked and curled in strange, patterned ways. I could feel them prodding at him.

And then they turned on me.

It's more of something I felt than had the shadows outside of me do. But I felt chills run up my arms at different lengths and speeds, felt something shift inside not unlike when I called on magic, and to my utter shock, my mind knew the translations.

"_An old friend,"_ was Nico's sarcastic answer to the question I hadn't known I could ask.

I didn't have time to wonder if the shadow-language had been silent to the others before the shadow of the crumpled door shot across the lighter alley. A red, burning candle that represented a demon took its place between Nico and I.

The shadows seemed to explode.

I hadn't been shooting to kill, but despite what he'd told Hunter about information, Nico certainly was. A golden lash, bright and burning, shot at the monster from across the alley.

Something stopped the majority of the shadows. A great web that pulsed and glowed worse than Hunter's magic. Which also crashed into the web.

I yelped and scrambled back, knowing all too well what it was.

But he hadn't thrown it at any of us.

I fell out of the shadows as he leapt forward, sailing through the air at the glittering web. As he did, the eerie city lights revealed the wolf in sheep's clothing, and he began to change. The pirate suit changed color and melded into sleek golden fur. Giant hands sprouted crescent-shaped blades from their fingertips. A giant black tail whipped out and crashed into the walls so hard it caused another dent.

The great cat crashed straight into the web and landed on all four paws, a infernal roar bouncing off the walls. It sounded like a scream. The battle cry rang from a human face, the man's face, atop the cat's mane.

Nico tossed more shadows its way, but the diamond net wrapped around the lion's chest pulsed, and the shadows disappeared before they could touch him. The eight-foot cat whirled on him and screeched again.

"Stop, children," the Manticore sneered. Its giant scorpion's tail whipped back and forth. "This does not have to end this way."

I hadn't ever met the Manticore before, but I knew what it was. Angry shadows ran through my blood. I didn't like this one bit.

"It will end," Hunter said coldly, "the way we say it will."

She stood from her hiding place and held out her scythe – the real one – to keep the monster at bay. Slowly, she stalked forward. The Manticore turned to face her and hissed angrily. Gleaming white fangs glared at her.

Behind it, Brook drew her bow. The wolves stalked out from every corner, every shadow, every blind spot and every blind, surrounding the cat with sneers and barks and flattened ears and bared teeth and one easy, united movement.

At their head, Moon was salivating, head low and eyes wide in anticipation.

The Manticore, seeing he was trapped, laughed and swished his tail impatiently. "The Daughter of Time. May I say that it's my pleasure to meet you."

"I didn't ask you to speak," she said calmly.

The Manticore laughed again and sat down, curling his tail around his paws and licking his mane. "Funny, I don't recall asking your permission, either. Call off the dogs and we'll have a real conversation."

"I'm not trying to have a real conversation," she countered, "and I'm not afraid to admit that. First question, and you'll answer if you're smart; were you the one who dragged us out here?"

The Manticore shrugged and, reminded us we weren't all-powerful, tapped the diamond web on his giant lion's torso. "It doesn't matter how you got out here or who asked you to come. What matters is that you are here, and what we do with this time together. I happen to have an offer for you."

"We don't give a damn," Nico spat. "Answer her question." Despite Nico being… well, Nico, he looked so small glaring up at the massive cat.

The Manticore opened its mouth to retort back, but Hunter cut him off. "Ignore the others. This is between you and me, _kitty._ I see no harm in hearing your offer."

He twitched irritably at the nickname. "Promise not to call me that again, and I will tell you."

Moon growled and stepped forward threateningly.

The demon snorted and said, "That girl. The Daughter of Darkness. My patron would very much like to have her. She has promised to grant you entrance to your precious Underworld safely if you hand over the one she wants." It gave her a sick, fanged smile. "And The Patron does not break her word."

My stomach clenched at the familiar title, coated in poison when it came from a monster's lips. Nico's eyes met mine across the clearing, but they held no answer to the question we had been asking ourselves since the Cyclopes came.

_What could Gaea want with me?_

No, we hadn't given it much thought, because she was Gaea and she wanted lots of demigods dead. But if she wanted me alive…? What purpose was I to her? That she'd risk sending a greater demon into enemy hands to have me?

Not for the first time, fear began to leak into my chest.

"Hm," Hunter mused. "I'm afraid I'll have to say no. But while we're on the subject and I have my kitty on a leash; what do you know of the silencing of Olympus and Hades?"

Now the cat laughed and stood, tail swishing dangerously. The end caught the light for a second and I gasped – it wasn't a scorpion tail. Rather than a barb, the end held a bristle of spikes, dripping with dark green poison. From the look of them, they could be fired.

I glanced at Hunter and hoped she could read my facial cues. But Nico was already guarding the tail, moving with it as it uncurled, a careful eye on the spikes. Surely she'd noticed his watch.

"I'll ask once more if you'll take The Patron's deal. If the answer is no, I hold no further interest in speaking with you. _Any _of you."

He flicked a nonchalant paw at Moon, indicating that our threats didn't entice him to become interested, either.

Hunter didn't stop to give him a worded answer.

He shot into the air above the scythe and aimed for her, claws unsheathed and a deafening roar slicing the air. Silver streaks echoed his howl and latched onto him, crashing into his legs and locking onto his paws. The bundle of fur crashed down off-target and rolled across the alley before slamming into a wall.

The alley exploded into chaos. The wolves fled from the demon and regrouped into two parties, one led by Moon and the other by Night. Silver arrows sailed over our heads and came down like water falling from the sky and Hunter charged, using her long scythe to head the attack. Nico appeared at my side and, together, we flanked her. The arrows thinned in an effort not to hit us.

There was a flash of golden magic that blinded me for a moment and then was gone, deflected by the stone. The Manticore then leapt to its feet and lunged at Hunter, but she slid from beneath his open paws like the hours you spend asleep do your mind. A giant tail swung and there was the heavy sound of fired darts. Nico and I rolled away from one another as they sailed over us.

Then it lunged for us.

I saw nothing but claws flashing in the aloof yellow light. The familiar glint of a weapon heading my way. I spun aside and let Întuneric whip out behind me, catching the lion in the wrist. A screech of fury split the air and I ran, retreating as it pounced at me.

As soon as I was gone, though, Nico was digging Mνήμη into the demon's shoulder. It screeched and rounded on him faster than I could blink. More giant, poisoned bullets came soaring my way.

I shadow traveled to its other side and gave my own screech as I sliced at its ankles.

A great golden pelt writhed as it whirled once more, razors slicing at the shaft of Anonymous. Its tail – not the spiked end but rather the middle of it, as I was standing too close – slammed into my legs and sent me sprawling. A massive paw stomped onto the concrete not inches from my nose. Great, glittering claws actually cut into the stone.

I rolled off again and leapt to my feet, Întuneric in the form of a throwing dagger. The lion reared on its hind legs, muscles as big as me rippling beneath its pelt, claws extended to slam down onto Moon. Night's group ambushed the creature from behind and tried desperately to secure its tail.

There. It turned to swat them away, exposing its throat for just a moment. I wasn't the best at this, but Nico had shown me enough to make this small shot-

And I tripped.

It takes skill to trip on a flat surface. It takes epicness to trip on a flat surface while standing still.

I yelled in shock and struggled to stand, but I could not. My legs were caught in something. I looked down and was so startled I nearly dropped Întuneric.

It was the concrete.

It had turned to liquid, a hot, seeping, thick, horrible-smelling liquid that let loose little fingers of sticky goo and clung to my shins. My boots had entirely disappeared into the mess.

Gaea.

I yelled for Nico's help – surely, he'd know how to get out of this, if he knew about her – and tried desperately to yank free. I fired shadows into the earth. I thrashed and screeched and even tried to shadow travel, but it still held. A sour feeling was filling my mouth as I heard Hunter struggling in the same way. And I came to terms with the fact that no, if Nico's known, he'd have said so by now. He'd told me that he knew nothing. Not even he could fix this.

Desperate, I looked around for the others, but they were also stuck. The whole alley had turned to mush beneath us. The wolves howled and thrashed and jumped. Hunter had already sunken to her knees. Around her arm, so tight it was a wonder there was no blood, shimmered another diamond web. Nico had fallen and gotten one of his hands stuck, along with both feet. Mνήμη was gripped tightly in his free hand and wisely held above the ground.

I tried once more to rise, but I couldn't get farther than my knees.

The Manticore, however, sat in the center of the alley and smiled at us. The ground looked sickeningly solid beneath his paws. "Very well. You have made your choice. The Patron will get what she wants in this way you have chosen. And so will I."

I expected him to come for me. I was the one Gaea wanted, for whatever terrifying reason. But no.

He lunged for Nico.

He knocked the boy over so that he lay on his back, trapped in the sappy earth. Like I mattered nothing. One giant, golden paw landed on Nico's shoulder. A pink tongue flashed out and licked furry lips.

At that moment, a spinning arrow punched clean through the lion's spine and came to a halt in a brick wall. The hole leaked golden dust that just crawled back up before the demon could even disintegrate.

The paw pushed Nico further into the ground, and its claws pierced his Snape-like cloak. Nico growled back and cursed at it angrily in Greek.

The Manticore leaned in and snapped its teeth in his face. "You know, Ghost King, you were supposed to be mine. There were two of you, all those years ago. We only needed one. I never got my reward for my work. You were rightfully _mine _from the start."

"Coward!" Moon howled. "Fight! Stupid cat, must eats corner prey!"

Hunter was pulling frantically at the diamond web's core, using claws and teeth and every ounce of strength she had. Blood really was seeping through her cloak now.

The Manticore ignored us, as well as the next arrow to bury itself in his flank. "And here we are yet again, aren't we? Funny how you let that happen."

"Go to hell," Nico said coldly, too angry to yell.

"Oh, _I've _done wrong? Don't give me that look; don't think I can't see what's going on here." His tail flicked towards me, and I ducked to avoid another dart that came flying this way. Then his tail swished back around and fired point-blank into Nico's leg. I didn't see exactly where or how deep, but I know he didn't miss, because despite his best efforts Nico let out an agonized yell. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this…"

"About as long as you've had your head stuck up your butt!" I yelled, too furious to keep my mouth in check. And no longer afraid to let myself get that way. I wasn't going to sit here listening to anyone, deranged and deceiving idiot or not, make that noise. "Moon's right; stupid kitty can't kill its own food, so it waits to eat something already trapped."

The lion's ears flicked. "What did you just call me?"

"Here, kitty kitty! Want your food put in a bowl next time? All you had to do was ask!"

"Bree, kitty kitties don't want the food in the bowl. They want the food, the bowl, and the water brought _to _them," Hunter corrected in a sweet voice.

The Manticore huffed and yanked his paw off of Nico, slicing at his shoulder as he did. "Are you _asking _to be eaten?"

"By the adorable kitty cat?" I gasped, covering my mouth. "Why, of course! Anything for a loveable little ball of fur!"

He bared his teeth and growled.

"Aw, little kitty wants to play rough? Come and get it, kitty kitty! Here, kitty kitty!"

My heart was pounding and my exhausted limbs shook as he roared and pounced, soaring through the air. But I swallowed it and raised my dagger.

Kronos had one thing right; showing your fear to your enemy's face wasn't going to help anyone.

It came so close I could smell its breath and the rancid, wet scent of its matted fur. The glare of the claws was all I saw.

That and the glittering diamond.

I lunged forward and shoved Întuneric into the web's thick center as hard as I could. It began to crack and break, as my cuffs had the other day, and diamond web pieces clattered to the ground. A great shattering noise split the air. Claws hooked into my back.

And then I was gone, shadow traveled to the other side of the alley.

The concrete, as the stone shattered, had turned to sand. I didn't have time to question it. I called my sword back and dodged the cat's furious swipe. Its other paw rushed at me from behind, and from the side, a set of massive jaws-

-And Moon slammed into him, tossing the giant cat aside as if he weighed nothing. A whole pack of wolves tore at his golden hide with their long teeth.

Hunter, diamond still pulsing on her arm, had yanked free of the sand as well and let loose dozens of golden whips. Shadows began to creep from their homes in the corners of the walls and snarled happily. They knew as well as I did there was a helpless target nearby.

The Manticore shrieked and made a break for it, shoving the wolves aside and trying desperately to climb the wall. He was bleeding green from several places. Before he got halfway up, five more arrows had appeared at his back, and one last fatal golden blast to the head made golden glitter rain down around us.

"Scatter!" Moon barked, and the back attacked the dust before it'd even landed.

Panting, I sheathed Întuneric and studied the broken diamond shards. "Wow."

"I really, really don't like those stones," Hunter muttered. I reached out and detached the diamond for her. She stuffed it in her pocket for safe-keeping. "Magic resistant, controls the earth – stupid little rock."

Controls the earth. She was right, I realized with a shock – as soon as I'd shattered the stone, the earth had released us.

It was a connection to Gaea.

The thought brought Nico to mind and I whirled, suddenly remembering the poisoned spike that'd been shot into his leg. He was on his hands and knees in the sand, shaking it off of him, and muttering angrily to himself.

I knelt at his side. "Are you alright? Great gods, that thing hated you."

"Noticed," he spat, sitting back on his haunches. He grabbed his sword and started to saw at the jeans to his injured leg.

I helped him pull the cut section off and examined the spike. It hadn't gone far by some miracle – it was on the edge of his shin and stuck out like a comically large splinter. "Ouch," I muttered. "Hey, Brook! Help us get the poison out of this!"

"I'm fine," Nico said stubbornly, yanking the spike out with is bare hands. The sight made me flinch. "Stupid thing doesn't kill. It just causes pain."

"Yeah, well, I don't see any downsides to getting it out," Brook said sternly as she sat down. "Bree, grab the nectar and bandages. We'll patch it up before we head back to the base."

I groaned, suddenly aware of each and every aching muscle. We'd had a long, confusing, fruitless day, and now I was beginning to feel it. "That's like four miles from here."

"I know," she said, and started to murmur the now-familiar spell.

I sighed and got what she asked for. Meanwhile, Hunter helped Moon scatter the Manticore dust. The wolf was enjoying herself with her task; she would find a shifting pile and pounce on it, sending the glitter everywhere. "Bad cat!" she'd tell it. "Wolves eats cats!"

It was a very triumphant moment for her and her pack.

"There," Brook said when she was done, tying the bandage firmly. "That should hold." She yawned and stood.

"Best get walking home," Hunter sighed, putting her scythe away. Moon yipped happily and bounced on Brook's heels. Other pack members looked up at them from where they were shoving dust into cracks and street drains.

I looked at Nico. "Can you walk?"

"I said I'm _fine,"_ he spat. "I don't need your help!" He leaned forward and pushed himself to his feet, managed about a step and a half, and then stumbled as his leg gave way.

I sighed and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Clearly."

He scowled but let me wrap an arm around him for support. One tentative arm extended around my shoulders, locking us in place. "You know," I whispered, "you still look awesome as a vampire."

He snorted and didn't reply.

Together, we snuck back through the party, clinging to the walls and Hunter using Mist to keep us hidden. We slipped through the doors and into the open street and began to, so slowly it was painful, make back the way we'd come.

No sooner had we turned off the warehouse's street, Hunter waved a hand for us and stood erect, eyes wide. Her hand flicked towards the pocket where her pencil was kept.

Ice settled in my stomach as the wolves began to growl. "What?"

"I could've sworn I heard someone call my name," she muttered, glaring at every passing face like they'd tried to kill her.

"Then let's keep moving," Nico sighed. By the way drooped, he was as tired as I was.

"…That's a good idea," Hunter eventually decided, and on we marched.

oOo

There was very little discussion when we got back.

We were all too tired to walk much further, and definitely not up the stairs. I couldn't even feel my aching muscles anymore. In fact, I'm pretty sure that Nico had taken as much of my weight as I'd taken of his.

No sooner had the door closed behind us did he decide the floor looked like a nice place to sleep. He was right, I decided, and let myself be dragged with him. It was nice and dark here, and the floor was as comfy as it looked. Even Moon deemed it worthy and collapsed. She began to snore the moment she was down.

"Nt," Brook muttered, and promptly crashed on the couch. I didn't see where Hunter went.

"…I'm sorry," Nico murmured before I could fall asleep.

I wasn't in the shape to interpret his weird declarations right then, nor was he for me to ignore them. I cracked open an eye to find him curled up on his side (not unlike the way I slept) and not a foot from where I'd landed. "For what? Neglecting to tell me the story of you and the Manticore? You know, there're a lot of stories you forget to tell."

"I forgot the cinnamon rolls," he murmured into the carpet. "That shop I went to before… Today… I'd gotten a lot of them. But I forgot to give them to you guys. Sorry."

Food was a nice thought. And the idea that Nico was thinking of sweets at a time like this almost made me laugh. "…Itsh alright," I murmured back. My eye had closed without my permission.

The last thing I remember was listening to them breathing as they slept.

oOo

**Nyx: Okay long chapter but it needed to end there. I don't have much time so I'm going to hurry; First, please do review! It's hard to tell what you're thinking when you won't tell us. Second, Monday's chapter may be a bit late, because I will be gone all weekend and not have my computer. I'll be writing the next chapter on paper and rushing to get it typed (which results in more typos than usual) on Sunday night. Third, don't forget to enjoy summer! Those of you in the Northern Hemisphere, anyway…!**


	25. Limits

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing has changed. Rick Riordan still owns this series.**

oOo

"Bree. Hey. Hey, Bree. Wake up."

Ugh. How I missed total, oblivious sleep. Being half-conscious sucked. "Training's not 'til dawn, Ethan," I muttered, and rolled away from him.

He boldly poked me again. "Nope. Training starts now. Get up."

It was the voice that jolted me awake. I yelped and sat up, staring with wide eyes not at Ethan but at my half-brother. He was looking down on me with impatient black eyes. The next thing that I noticed was that I was lying on the carpet of a very strange house. At that, the night's events came rushing back to me.

"I'm up,' I muttered, using the back of the couch to climb to my feet. The house was dark, dark, dark, with a blue tint from the walls. This place did not creak and groan and breath like home did; this place was just peacefully dead. From outside came the quiet, muffled, calm orchestra of the city. "Gods, what time is it?"

"An hour and a half before dawn," he whispered. His hair was a tangled mess again and he had discarded the cloak, but he must've forgotten he was wearing the makeup, because it was still on. "We're going ghost hunting, remember?"

"…Oh!" I whisper-yelled. "Right! Do we have enough time before sunrise?"

"We've got plenty of time for scouting," he hushed, "and that's all I intend to do tonight. Hurry and get ready if you want to come. And change out of that infernal skirt."

I glanced down at my costume and sighed before heading to the stairs. "Yep. Old-fashioned."

My bag was where I'd left it upstairs. I threw on a fresh set of black jeans and an equally dark shirt, rushed into my jacket, and hurried through the bathroom. A splash of cold water on my face yanked me from the last of my daze. Sounds from outside and the static of silence burst into clarity. As did the rumbling in my stomach.

My boots made no sound as I raced down the stairs. The calm early-morning suppressed even their excited noise. Nico was still waiting by the door. "Do we have time to eat? I'm starving."

He sighed and sent a longing glance at the door. "…If you have something you can eat on the go, yes."

"We could eat the cinnamon rolls," I suggested.

"That's a good idea," he mused quietly as he opened the door. Then he paused. "…How do you know about those?"

"You told me last night while high on exhaustion and Manticore venom."

"Ah," he said, frowning at himself. He shut the door and sat down to search through his bag. "Give me a sec to get them out…"

While I waited I turned to look back into the house. Brook's hand was visible on top of the couch. Hunter had sprawled out over a chair, arms and legs hanging over the edge and her head lolling back. Quiet snores came from her. They were both still; asleep, they'd become one with the soft and still dreams of the night. They were as peaceful as their calm surroundings. The sight made me smile. "They'll be alright while we're gone, right?"

"There's no safer place for them in the whole world than here," he said, avoiding the question but trying to be reassuring. He stood and handed me four while paper bags. "And Hunter knows where we're going. Let's head out."

"_Dang_…" I breathed as I followed him out the door. Each bag was so full I could hardly hold it. "How many of these did you get?"

"Knowing Hunter's appetite? Not enough."

With that, he began to limp down the street. A makeshift brace of spare wood and duct tape on his injured leg clacked on the sidewalk with each step. The lights hanging over the road had failed to come on, but on either end, unnatural yellow light glowed. It spilled out and over the asphalt, glared off the windows, shone on the buildings like a bucket of golden paint had been carelessly tipped over. It even appeared overhead, a thin yellow mist that had done away with the sky's dazzling nighttime mural. The night's peaceful silence had been shattered by the pre-concert noises of the city; the humming warm-up jumble of humming cars and human chatter. It could be heard even from out here, on the city's fringes, where we appeared to be alone.

I could never known the night could be so loud. It hadn't ever been before, not even in Seattle. This actually made me long for the smaller city of Oswego. The fact that the lack of day was no longer my peaceful reprieve bothered me.

I shoved my thoughts aside and kept pace with Nico, reaching for a cinnamon roll as I walked. "How do you work in places like this?"

"I ignore the noise and make sure not to contribute to it," he answered, staring ahead. We were walking away from the city. Where, of course, the graveyards ought to be. "Of course, ghosts trapped in a city around the noise and light tend to be in more pain and are treated first. But since you're here I figured we should play it safe."

I hesitated to bite into my breakfast. "…Safe?"

"You'll see."

I stared at him for a minute more, but when it was clear he wasn't going to elaborate, I turned my attention back to my roll. The first bite was wonderful – a little cold, but still flaky and sweet and full of frosting. "Mmm." I closed my eyes and savored it. The loud city was suddenly all the quieter.

We walked on. He led us through the streets without a moment's hesitation, twisting around corners and striding past intersections, oblivious to his limp. When I passed him a roll and asked if his leg was well enough for this, he'd only rolled his eyes and said he'd had nectar and felt fine. We then fell into a small discussion about how doughy centers make cinnamon rolls twice as epic.

Time passed. Between walking and eating, we kept a careful eye out for monsters. I began to wonder when we'd find the first graveyard. Behind us, the city's orchestra had started to fade. It was only background static now. The world had become darker and had nothing but the streetlights to defy it. I could even hear crickets. Cool wind was blowing between the brick buildings.

The calmer surroundings gave me a little too much time to think.

"Does Hunter scare you?" I blurted into our silence.

He didn't notice how awkward the moment was, though. "When she threatens me? Yes."

The answer made me squirm. _Calm down,_ I told myself. _ Hunter's Hunter. She scares people all the time. That doesn't mean anything._ "She's only joking, you know."

"Yeah. But she's Hunter. She'd probably follow through with them. Still joking, of course, but she'd _do _it."

I stared at my shoes. "But she's not, like _bad _scary, right?"

He considered. "…No. But she would be if I were her enemy. She's got some… interesting strategies."

Dread colder than Stygian iron closed in on my throat. No. Hunter wasn't Kronos. My sister would never. Her and I, we were going to work together. We were going to save us…

But if Nico already saw Kronos in her, so strongly, could we ever really win this uphill battle?

"Why ask?" Nico said, jerking me from my thoughts.

I sighed. "She, uh, has this rep in school. As the tough girl. Was wondering if people saw her as she really was, because it's not exactly an act, but they have a few differing opinions."

"Hm."

"Do you ever go to school?"

"According to official records, I've died twice. Most recently I was killed about two years ago by my school's Vice Principal, Dr. Thorn. Never finished the fourth grade."

"Oh. Another story you forgot to tell me. That Manticore, too. He really hated you." I thought back to that night, to him pinned beneath a demon, the hiss and clicks and purrs of the lion's speech. Weird words that made spines crawl up my back. _You were mine from the start._ "He said… you two had a history?"

He sighed heavily. "That we do."

Another silence told of his refusal to share. Half-hopeful I could still coax it out of him, I tried, "You seemed upset."

He shrugged. "No more so than I'd be if any other monster had me pinned, I guess. Though I can't say I enjoyed seeing him again." Then he lifted his head from his third cinnamon roll to look me in the eyes. "What about you? You okay?"

"What?"

He took another bite. "Gaea. She seems determined to capture you. She's got every monster on the lookout, obviously. You're as big a target to all of them as I was to the Manticore. I figured you'd have a few thoughts on the subject."

"Oh." I took a bit of my roll and thought as I chewed. Unpleasant thoughts were coming to me now. I glanced behind us. "Yeah, I guess it bothers me. I've never liked attention. Even on Mount Othrys, when the right attention kept me safe. I've been more on guard than usual. But the thing that gets under my skin is that I don't… I don't know _why."_

He nodded. "'Why' would be nice to know. For all of us. We'd know what they're doing, and how desperate they are, and how to fight back."

"Yeah, well, that too. But even without it… I just want to know why."

Did I have dangerous information? No. No more than Nico and Hunter combined. Or did I? Or did I have another, more deadly power? If Gaea had a problem with me, she should flat-out say it. No more sneaking around. No more being a coward.

Because I hated the fact that she knew me better than I did.

"Well. Hopefully we'll never know," Nico sighed. He looked up at the sky. "Come on. We're almost done."

I stopped. "Almost _done?_ When did we start?"

"The moment we stepped out of the door. We've passed several cemeteries already."

"Passed?"

"If there were a spirit trapped, we would've been able to tell from where we were," he explained, continuing to walk and leave me behind.

I rushed to catch up. "And how would we tell?"

"You'll see."

But it seemed that the Fates didn't want me to see that day. We walked in silence as the sky grew lighter with the pink fingers of dawn and the city began the opening measures to its daily symphony. People began to fill the sidewalks, carrying coffee and phones and lost in their own worlds, the same setting but a different story with different characters and different colors. Despite his limp Nico just kept walking straight and would nimbly slide around a person and then keep going. Me, I just tended to stumble and swerve around others. Now and then he would stop and wait for me to catch up. On the streets, cars began to rumble past. The drivers were equally as distant as the pedestrians.

Eventually Nico shook his head. "No spirit would be caught dead out in this."

I assumed the pun was unintended and sighed. "It is pretty light out now."

"I guess we're heading back," he said, and kept walking as if the conversation hadn't happened.

Ten minutes later, something strange happened.

It felt like a headache. It faded in, but it faded in fast. Suddenly I had a rock on my forehead and then it grew and then somebody had decided to start smacking it into me. I stopped and used my wrist – my hands still held the cinnamon roll bags – to rub my temple. To my utter shock, touch made it worse. I flinched and cried out. The sound of the paper bags hitting the pavement was like an explosion in my skull.

Nico, still ahead of me, cast me a glance. And then began to sprint in the other direction.

"Wait!" I cried, stumbling but running after him. I'd never find my way back if he ran off.

"Come on, slow poke!" he called back, and kept going.

My footsteps didn't exactly feel nice in my head, but I picked up the pace. "Nico! Wait, please!"

He ignored me.

Each step I took hurt worse, but I was more afraid of being left alone. Amid a strange city with Gaea on my tail. So I put my head in my hands and bolted after him. The pressure in my head grew, like I was being crushed, and started a burning in my throat. Panic was settling in now. What on earth…?

I was near the point of crying – like, sit-on-the-ground-and-scream crying – by the time he stopped.

My feet stumbled up to him. The city was swirling around me in a mad mixture of screaming noises and knives. Nico had stopped amid it all to stare up, up, up at an old apartment building. You'd think he was the Oracle looking into some glorious future, the way he studied those broken windows.

I sank to my knees beside him in its shadow, bending over and clutching my head. The pain was unbelievable. My throat was on freaking fire. My panicked, wild thoughts weren't hardly mine. They belonged to a tortured animal. I had to get out, get out, get out out out….

"There's a ghost in there," Nico whispered.

I glared up at him, but the harsh light of the sky made me squeeze my eyes shut. "What the _hell-"_

"Bree, tell me what we used Shane's femur for."

At the moment I really didn't give a hellhound's butt for Shane's femur, but it was something to focus on. His voice wasn't near as painful as anything else at that moment. "…To talk to him. To read his mind. We were too far, so you had to get a bone, and forage a connection through it, like using Întuneric to access old recordings it'd made…"

He cut off my panicked rambling. "Right. And do you remember what he told you about being trapped?"

Horror dawned on me. "This… That's not-"

"It is. I told you we wouldn't miss a tortured ghost."

I couldn't help it. Someone had taken knives to my skin now. I cried out and hid my head in my arms. The dark felt nice but light, burning light that lit fires and turned all to ashes and left nothing, screamed at me from the miniscule cracks. No, no, no! I had to get out… This place was a curse…

"How do you stand this?" I groaned.

"I don't know," came his answer. "I just do. Tolerance, maybe? Keeping a clear head? It used to do that to me. And it feels no different, but…"

I yelped again and looked up at him. His shoulders were raised in a shrug. Yet his eyes shone. Shone like the stars the city lights hid. I hadn't seen that look in his eyes since he introduced me to Shane. "I can sometimes block them, too. Keep my mind sealed. But once you get this close, you don't really have a choice. I'm sure the mind-block would still work if someone else were to read or get into my mind, but a ghost? No. I'm tied to them in more ways than I can count. You, probably less, but you're still Hades's daughter."

"So I'm like their princess?" I muttered.

"Pretty much, yeah. A couple of them call me Prince."

Trying to tag that label onto Nico almost made me laugh, despite the spirit's thoughts in mine. "So what do we do now?"

"We get out of here. It's best if we work at night, when they'll be more at peace. You and I need more sleep, anyway." Without waiting for me, he turned and walked off.

I grit my teeth and got to my feet to follow. The pain hadn't lessened, and my breathing was still panicked, but at least now he'd given me something solid to hang on to. A plan. "You could show me that mind-block thing, too. And how to free the ghost."

"You're not coming," he said without looking at me.

"…I'm not?"

"No. There's a lot of rules and complications and you're not ready. And I'll be faster working alone."

The pressure in my head was fading as we walked away from the apartment building. Now, the empty space was filled with confusion. I'd seen the look in his eyes. He'd been so eager to share this world with me before. What the heck had just changed?

"…What if I want to learn?" I asked tentatively. My hands had at last stopped shaking.

"Well, I've been instructed not to teach you that part. You can go find a low-life who's looking for a few drachma and ask them to."

"But you're the only Child of the Underworld besides myself."

"Then I guess you're stuck," he snapped, and whipped around to glare at me.

I stopped cold. The look in his eyes was so painfully familiar. That same hate, a boiling rage so cold the world froze, striking a fear so strong I couldn't breathe. He looked like he was ready to kill me. Very much like Shane's _Her._

It wasn't until then, that he gave me that look, did I realize I hadn't seen it for a good few days.

But now it was back.

"…Alright," I managed, taking a step back. Even that made the burn in my throat worsen. "…Okay. I won't come."

He didn't say another word, but turned and continued to limp confidently back to the house.

oOo

"Heeeeeeey!" Hunter called when we walked in the door.

"Hey," I muttered, miserable. The agony of the spirit had faded and Nico hadn't spoken to me for any reason for the rest of the trip, but I had lost my cinnamon buns, and whatever peace I'd had with my half-brother. I was not in a good mood.

Well, on the bright side, this was his last day to convince me to keep my mouth shut. If I needed to put him back in his place, I was well capable.

I just wished the idiot would make up his mind.

Brook walked in, looking like she'd just woken, hair a mess and clothes rumpled. Moon yawned next to her. "Hey. We were just deciding what to do for breakfast."

Nico snorted. "Have fun with that."

Hunter, seeing he'd forgotten to wash off the Halloween makeup, giggled. She shared a glance with me. I shook my head; no, we were not about to remind him, either. Another stolen look at him – _gods _how I loved a guy in eyeliner – made me smile as well.

Even if said guy was a total jerk. It still looked nice.

"This place having squirrels, yes?" Moon asked Nico, hopeful.

He rolled his eyes. "You wanna see what this place has? Sit down and enjoy the show." He limped into the kitchen and started to open the cabinets, one by one.

The first held boxes and boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios.

As did the second.

And the third.

Eventually Nico stood in the center of the kitchen, with every cabinet left open, orange and yellow boxes glaring out at us. His head was hung in shame.

"Holy Hera," Hunter laughed. "It's the Cheerios Apocalypse!"

"Holy _Demeter,"_ Nico corrected. "She paid Father to let her stock these bases not long ago. Because she knew I'd have to use one eventually." He twisted his face and spoke in a high-pitched, ugly mimic, "'That boy needs to eat more cereal!'"

Hunter just pointed at him and laughed.

He sighed and shook his head. "It's not so funny after a couple of days."

Brook, who had done her best to remain silent, burst into giggles and snorts. Moon was just annoyed that there were no squirrels and barked angrily.

Me, I was all but on the floor laughing.

Served the son of a hellhound right!

Nico and Moon continued to bicker. He dared her to try cereal and she told him he was 'dumb like cats' and so on. Hunter and I shared about five more covert glances.

I could deal with my bipolar half-brother so long I had my sisters, I decided.

Still laughing, I turned to look at Brook. The window to the kitchen passed my view as I did.

Suddenly I wasn't laughing.

Întuneric all but leapt into my hands and I charged, leaping over the table and shoving the window open, sword held out, sweeping in a wide arc-

But no one was there.

Behind me, the others had fallen silent. I hung out the window and glared at the street, raking my gaze up and down, searching.

"What is it?" Hunter whispered. I heard her draw Anonymous.

"I saw a shadow," I whispered. "Someone was here."

Brook appeared beside me with bow drawn. The arrow was spinning wildly and had the smallest flame dancing on the tip. I stood back as, slowly, she turned from side to side with her expert eyes narrowed. Behind her, Moon stiffened and growled. Silver hackles were raised like she'd been electrocuted.

"…I don't see, smell, or hear anyone," Brook said eventually, but refused to put the bow away or leave position. "Except for that stray dog across the street. He's kind of cute."

I turned to look at Hunter but instead found Nico. He was glaring at the window furiously. He felt my gaze and stole a glance in my direction. No sooner had our eyes met did the familiar hate spring into place, and he looked away quickly.

"Well," Hunter sighed. "I guess we just keep the blinds closed. C'mon. Last I checked, we had important things to do."

oOo

**Nyx: Yay finally got it done! Kol I got up early but was like "NOOOO!" and my cat was like "YES FOOD NOW!" and I got up to discover his bowl was full, he just wanted stuff fresh from the bucket. I found this insulting so we kind of had this stand-off. It was very epic.**

**Nic: Awesome.**

**Nyx: Anyway so yeah I'm back and I'm still working on the cover. It's still just been started, but it'll be AWESOME when it'd one, I promise! WAAAAY better than Rebels's cover. Please review and tell us what you think!**

**Nic: Next chapter, we have suspense, more Hunter awesomeness, and PHIL!**

**Nyx: YES there will be PHIL! Review if you like Phil! Kol. See y'all on Thursday.**


	26. Second Glances

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan has not lost his mind, so no, he has not yet given PJatO/HoO to us. They still belong to him.**

oOo

"Kronos had magic-resistant cords," Brook reminded us.

"I still don't like it," Hunter muttered, poking the diamond with her scythe. "It stops magic, yet had a magical connection to the earth? I'm not trusting it with anything."

Two hours toiling over this stupid little thing. I was about ready to smash the rock and leave it at that. Besides, it's not like we were the ones who'd be able to get anything out of it.

"Do you think someone at Camp Half-Blood knows how to figure it out?" Bree suggested.

"There's a few Hecate campers there," I sighed, "though most of them died in the Titan War, due to their mother's alliance with Kronos. And with them most of their knowledge and underground connection. The few at Camp are left with only written work to make up for what was lost. Which isn't a bad archive, if you ask me, but the most modern developments in magic wouldn't be known by them."

"Well, this is old magic, like the drakon and the Venti," Hunter sighed. "I just hate to ask for their help."

I shrugged, indicating my agreement.

Brook spoke up next. "Nico, you're the only one who can Iris-Message Camp, since we've all been banned. We should at least tell them about it."

Bree sighed heavily and sat back in her chair. "I guess we should."

"I can talk to Annabeth tonight before I leave," I offered.

"Is she the Hecate cabin, or in charge up there?" Hunter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Technically, Dionysus is in charge. But Percy has the most sway. And Annabeth is Percy's dictator, so what she says goes." Old memories threatened to resurface; the Battle of the Labyrinth, the time we'd met at Westover Hall, talking to her on Olympus after the Battle of Manhattan. I shoved them away before they managed to grow into detail.

Bree made a point of looking away from me as I spoke.

Hunter sighed. "Well, that's settled. Next subject; Underworld magic. In particular, the glyphs."

Bree, who had pointed out that her glyphs still worked when we'd woken around noon after our trip, seemed suddenly animated. "Oh, yeah. We were gonna engrave them in your scythe, weren't we?"

Hunter smiled excitedly. "Yes. Yes we were."

Alarms were going off in my head. "Whoa, guys. Father… Neither of you has engraved glyphs since the Titan War. They're a connection to the Underworld. …I don't know if…"

Brook shrugged. "One, he didn't take Bree's glyphs away. He could've given her a new sword if he wanted to. Two, we're here in LA, aren't we? The rejects? All freaking four of us. We're in a state of emergency. Those were your words, Nico. I think glyphs are harmless enough."

She gave me that sweet, not-so-innocent smile. Oh, sure, we could coexist fine. I think I've said that before. But she must've picked up on the tension between Bree and I, and deemed it crossing the line. Open Artemis-born hostilities were radiating from her now.

I sank into my chair, for some odd reason upset by that.

She smirked, victorious, and stood. "Well. You three have fun. I'm going to go play with my pack." Next to her, Moon barked excitedly. They both trotted from the room with heads held high.

"Not near the television!" I warned as they went. It'd be disastrous if that thing broke.

Of course, I was ignored.

When I turned to join in with Bree and Hunter's conversation the situation did not change. Bree had already drawn Întuneric and was pointing at the muddy-colored symbols, explaining each one and how they worked. "They're strictly Underworld; not even a child of Hecate could create these glyphs and have them work like I do. Nico's glyphs don't even light. They're engraved, and he can use them, but it costs him energy and then there's the time it takes for Mνήμη to recharge." She didn't ask me for a demonstration.

Hunter nodded and considered her scythe, which was also drawn and laid out over the table. "Hm."

"Maybe you could just carve the glyphs really, really tiny?" I suggested, also pondering the sliver of black metal on the edge of her blade. It was thinner than the nail on my pinky finger.

She shook her head. "No. Anonymous can change materials. It'll be tricky, but I think I can turn the inside into Stygian iron. I'll have to raise it to the surface, carve the glyphs, and sink them back under again, but it's possible. Do you think they'll still work that way?"

_Now _they looked at me, eyes well guarded.

I shrugged. "This is stuff we haven't used in ages. I didn't know they existed until Bree showed them to me, and Father won't speak of them. Though I'd say as long as they're in Stygian iron, it doesn't matter of the bronze and silver covers them. They ought to work."

As soon as they no longer needed me, they turned to each other again and pretended I didn't exist. I grit my teeth angrily.

"It's your own fault," Phil warned from the living room. I grumbled and ignored him.

Bree and Hunter spent another two hours working on the scythe's glyphs. It only had two; one for its mental connection to Hunter and the other being Bree's latest discovery, a red, aggressive-looking thing that made the weapon burn the skin of any intruder that picked it up. Kronos had already given it the enchantments to change shape and material.

About halfway through the second glyph, Brook came back in. Her stupid little dog was the only one content to admit I was there; she was making a strange gesture with her tail that I'd come to understand was an insult in her culture. Her mistress asked Hunter, "Can I grab some meat and toss it to the stray dog out there? He's just lying in the ditch across the street."

I sighed. "Did you not see Demeter's latest achievement?"

Hunter nodded without looking up. "Don't let it bite you."

"It might give fleas to your dog," I muttered. Of course, no one else commented. Brook found some jerky from her bag and headed out the door.

Determined to be noticed, I then moved to helping Bree hold Anonymous in place while Hunter worked. My half-sister's hands flinched away from me and her murderous gaze lifted to meet mine.

And then she moved to the other side of the table, eyes now fallen to the floor, shoulders hunched in a tense and ready way.

Well, great. Not only had I made her mad; I'd scared her off completely.

"You got what you wanted," Phil sighed. "Happy now?"

_You know what? I am._

"You ought to apologize for yelling at her."

_You know why I did._

"Yes, I do. You had valid reason to push her away and were mad because you were lying to yourself and hiding behind your father's orders and got so frustrated you lost control."

"Lying?" I asked aloud. Bree and Hunter gave me funny looks.

"Do you really think," Phil asked, "that having her along would be all that bad?"

"I'm pretty sure it would," I growled, looking over my shoulder. But he was hidden from my view.

"Who are you talking to?" Bree asked, bewildered.

"What happened to the excitement, even if only for seeing someone else love your magic as much as you do?" Phil went on.

"I was never excited," I protested. "And you know it's a bad idea."

"What's a bad idea?" Hunter asked, glancing between Bree and I.

"Oh, it's definitely a bad idea," Phil agreed. "Or I see how it could be. But regardless you ought to admit-"

"You know _what,_ smart mouth? You have no idea what it's like. You don't understand. _You don't know_ how crap like this works, so you should just _shut up_ and _leave me to my own business."_

"Excuse me?" Hunter growled.

I sighed. "Not you. Phil. He's in there harassing me."

Bree gave me a funny look. "…Phil's here?"

"Right in there on the stand beneath the television. Go and say hi if you want," I muttered. "I think he enjoys your company better than mine. Watch out, though. He might drown you in his ego."

Hunter and Bree exchanged a glance. "…Go ahead," the blonde eventually sighed. Bree went to go check the living room.

No sooner was she gone did Hunter lean forward, all passiveness wiped from her face and replaced by a scowl. Her eyes were two polished knives. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing," I muttered. "He just thinks he knows everything and likes to offer advice on every word that comes out of my mouth. Annoying little jerk."

"Hm. Well, while she's in there looking for Phil, would you mind telling me what you did to her last night?"

I blinked, utterly shocked. What? Had I done something _wrong _last night? Why was I suddenly everyone's antagonist? "What?"

"She acts like you hit her or something," Hunter growled, fingers twitching. "Look, I don't care how to two resolve it, but know this; whatever you do to her, I will do to you by the sevenfold. Am I clear?"

Fury boiled in my throat. Oh, so _I _was the one abusing _Bree _now? Like Hunter knew a damn thing. And it's not like Phil was wrong. Phil's never wrong. It wasn't like I'd meant to make her flinch like an abused dog. It's not like I meant to hurt her, and it wasn't my fault if she decided to be so sensitive. She ought to let go and not hang on to every word she heard. She ought to leave me alone when I asked.

But when I met Hunter's eyes, my mouth clamped shut. Knives, that's what they were, edges sharpened and terrifying. You do not defend yourself against Hunter. With my throat effectively sliced, I fell silent and nodded without protest.

"Good," she said, and sat back down.

"You know," Phil sighed, "I didn't really like seeing her flinch, either."

oOo

Phil was a skull.

As Hunter was experimenting with her finished glyphs, I wandered back into the living room and sat on the couch, studying the white face staring back at me. Phil just grinned as if I'd done something amusing.

"…Does he talk?" I asked Nico, who was watching Hunter.

"He does," Nico sighed. "Though he's not talking right now. He likes to pout after we fight; it helps nurse his ego."

"…Interesting…" I said. White bone gleamed in the afternoon light. I dimly wondered if I should reach out and touch him. Did Phil want to speak with me? Nico made it sound like he did, but if he was currently silent…

"Do you guys have, like, a permanent connection?" I asked. "Because if Phil's trapped somewhere or in the Underworld…"

"Phil isn't really trapped. He just likes to haunt his skull," Nico explained. "I've already asked him about everything closing. He doesn't know more than we do. Which frustrates him."

I gave Phil one last glance. "Well, you're welcome to help us investigate, if you want."

"He doesn't," Nico grumbled as he walked in. He picked Phil off the table and carried him into the kitchen. "He just likes to tease and bug me most of the time. Now and then he acts like a friend. But mostly he just doesn't like to leave me alone, period the end."

I got up and followed my half-brother to the kitchen, where Hunter was still swinging Anonymous. "…Okay. Anyway. I'm going to go practice my violin. Yell if you need me."

Hunter stopped attacking the air and said, "You're a witness to the diamond magic-resistance. Nico might could use your help talking to Annabeth."

"I'm not doing that right now," Nico said quickly before I could agree or disagree. "I have to go clean the basement."

I almost choked. "That sounds…"

"Absurdly normal," Hunter finished. I glanced at the window behind her, through which Brook was visible, running around with her wolves in the yard. The stray dog across the street watched solemnly.

Nico shrugged. "Well, I can't let it fall into disrepair, and the ghost isn't keeping it in shape anymore. So I'll step in."

"We're not exactly running the funeral home," Hunter pointed out.

He gave her a shocked look. "I can't just let it fall apart! What if one of us died?"

Silence.

"What?" he asked, honestly confused.

I sighed. "On that happy note, my violin's waiting for me. See you later."

oOo

It knew. I swear, the thing knew.

If you run a bow across a violin string, and nothing disturbs it thereafter, it will continue to vibrate for twelve full hours.

So it knew. I had neglected it for over twenty-four hours.

When a violin is sad, it does not sound sad. It does when I vibrato or when I am upset, but not when it itself is depressed. Then it just sounds broken.

Frustrated, I knocked my music aside and set the instrument down for fear of my anger making me damage it. I put the bow away and sank to my knees on the floor.

A very familiar urge was tugging on me. Determined to resist, I leaned forward until my face was buried in the side of the bed, and my eyes closed. There. Now I could not look, even if I wanted to. Even if I tried…

I tried to make it stop, but my hand reached out to the right, anyway. It found empty air.

"Are you alright?"

I screamed and jumped so hard I nearly broke my neck against the bed. "Great _gods,_ Nico! I told you to stop that!"

"Sorry," he said, offering me his hand. I growled at it and stood on my own. "I, uh, heard you playing, and…"

"And it sucked, I know," I muttered, slamming the case shut. "Why are you here? Aren't you cleaning your precious undertaker supplies or something? Or preparing for your job tonight?"

There was silence.

"You know what?" I spat. "I don't think-"

"Please don't be mad."

I whirled on him. "_Mad?!_ Nico, I'm done with it! I'm hardly mad anymore! If you want to keep playing your stupid games-"

"I came to ask if you'd like to help me clean the basement," he said softly, dark eyes hidden behind inky strokes of hair. "It's kind of, um, big."

"Then I'd get started if I were you," I spat.

"Please?"

"See?! And here you go again! This stupid game you play! One day you're fine. 'Oooh, I love snowball fights!' And the next? 'Lie to your sisters!' 'Here, look at this dead guy!' 'No, you can't talk to dead people!' 'I can sit here and watch a whole dang movie with you guys!' 'I freaking hate you, so you can sit there and wonder what the hell you did wrong!' 'Oh, never mind, come on a magical basement adventure with me!' What the Styx?!"

He opened his mouth to speak, but I leaned forward into his face and hissed, "I know how to recognize a rigged die when I see it. So leave me out of whatever sick game you're playing, alright? You may want me in and out and in and out, but _I'm _ready to make the decision for you. I'm out."

I turned away from him, zipped my violin case shut, and leaned the instrument against the dresser again. I was prepared to walk out when he spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

"I bet you are!" I snarled, storming for the door.

"Sis… Ach – I mean, Bree…"

"_WHAT?!"_ I roared, spinning on my heel to glare at him. Only when the word echoed did I realize how loud I'd been.

"I only wanted to explain," he whispered. "Please come to the basement with me."

I sighed and slouched, shaking my head. "I shouldn't say yes to you. I really shouldn't play your games."

"It's not a game, Bree."

"Fine. I'll go to the stupid basement with you. But this better be worth it."

He relaxed and without another word disappeared into the shadows.

oOo

The basement was white.

"Modern equipment," Nico muttered as he sorted through a bag of shining metal tools. He blinked as light danced off them and into his eyes. "My older set works perfectly fine."

I wasn't in the mood to ask him how he knew.

Stainless-steel refrigerators and tables were in various rooms. No major machinery was involved, at least – no laser-cutters or robots with giant, clawed arms hanging over an ominous blank table surface. The lights were the most recent development. Bright, blazing things too white that leeched any remaining color out of everything. Not a stain or speck of dust was anywhere.

Nico handed me a box of wipes and told me to wipe down all surfaces. We'd get a mop for the floor later.

So I was doing that while he used a rag and some chemical I didn't want to know the name of to clean utensils, both utterly silent. Tension sparked between us.

"I really didn't mean it, you know," he sighed.

"Mean what?" I muttered. "There's a lot you could apologize for."

"Yelling. Making you upset. I… I didn't mean to hurt you, you know."

I thought of the murderous look in his eyes, straight from the day I met him as a raven in my dreams to our talk on Olympus to our discussion earlier that morning. "For some reason I have trouble believing that."

"Yeah, well, it's true. I just… I'm not a people person. I needed to be alone. And I wasn't sure what to do when you kept on asking and it just came out. I really didn't mean to sound so harsh."

I grumbled to myself and scrubbed the countertop harder.

"You're not making this easy," he sighed.

"Neither are you," I snapped. "Look, if you have something to say, say it. This repetition – being nice then being mean and then apologizing and then nice and mean all over again – leads me to believe you're not telling me the whole truth of anything. So it's hard to trust anything you say."

Silence.

"So you are hiding things, then?"

"The same way you hide Ethan," he sighed. "And I did tell you about Gaea. What I know. I wish I could tell you more."

I sighed and hung my head. Neither of those names was helping me. "It probably isn't safe for me to go parading around the city, either, I guess."

"There was that, too," he muttered. "Though the prophecy mentioned daytime being dangerous, not night."

"Okay, one, the Manticore found us at night. Two, I thought you didn't do prophecies. Especially from fake sources."

"Oh, gods! Did I say that?"

"Yep."

"Shoot me."

I was almost tempted to laugh. But I have this problem with guns.

He stood and helped me clean the sink. "I really am sorry."

Another heavy sigh. "…I know I shouldn't forgive you. I really shouldn't. I'm gonna regret it."

"Most people who forgive me do."

"Ditto," I muttered. We finished the room in silence. And the next. And the next. My least favorite part was cleaning the drawers. Not because I knew what they were for or that I had trouble with cramped spaces (unless said cramped space is full of people) but that they had all these little slider pieces and wheels that I had to contort myself in strange ways to reach. By the time we'd made it all the way down the long hall – this basement was nearly a replica of the top floor – my spine ached and some bone in me popped with each step.

Nico hesitated to go back up the stairs, though, frowning at the door at the end of the hall. The one we hadn't been in yet.

"What?" I asked.

"It's labeled 'Training'."

"Let's investigate," I said.

He glared at the door for another minute before shaking his head. "We're running out of time if we want to talk to Camp before I head out."

"Oh," I said, pouting.

He turned and strode down the hall. "Have you read your sword's recordings recently? Searched for more?"

The question completely took me off-guard. "Uh…"

Truth was, I'd forgotten all about stuff like that when Olympus closed down.

"You should start looking at it again." He stopped halfway down the hall and shifted awkwardly. "I… Uh…."

"You're… indecisive?" I guessed.

"Uh… See, I was wondering if…." He shook his head vigorously, unable to make up his mind on something. "Ach…"

I sighed heavily and sat on the floor. "Take your time."

He looked away from me and forced through his teeth, "Look, did you want to come with me tonight?"

Another shocking question. "Uh…"

"Did you want to?"

"If you honestly need alone time, say so, because I don't mind giving it to you," I rushed.

"Look," he sighed, "just like there are reasons for you not to forgive me, there are reasons I shouldn't invite you. Big reasons. But Phil had a point and we are in a state of emergency and… And you enjoyed talking to Shane so much…"

The memory came to life in my eyes. The same way an odd light had reached his that day. When he'd talked so fast, spoken with reverence, cradled the bone like it was a child. And handed that child to me.

"Plus I shouldn't be out there alone when there are monsters around," he finished. "At least, ones that don't die and have somehow managed to do away with Olympus."

"…If you don't mind…" I said, wishing I could see his eyes.

He relaxed visibly. "Okay. Just be quiet and do what I say, and no questions, alright? You don't have the briefing that I wish you did, but it's a tad late for that."

"Can do," I whispered.

He strode up the stairs and opened the giant metal door. "Then come on. I need you to talk to Annabeth, too, and then we're heading straight out. I hope you got enough sleep, because there's another long night ahead of us."

oOo

**Nyx: Eh. Not too fond of that chapter. But it's up. For those of you who are wondering why I'm updating so early in the morning, it's that I stayed up late working on an animation project. This same project will put Rejects's cover on hiatus for a little while, but no more than four days, I assure you.**

**Nic: This is that 'surprise project', isn't it?**

**Nyx: Yep.**

**Nic: What is it?**

**Nyx: Shut up and find out in four days.**

**Nic: Well, fine. You got anything else exciting to announce?**

**Nyx: Actually, yes. My family got together and we went to go see that snail movie in theaters. And guess what name came on the credits first, in big blue font across the screen? DAVID SOREN. I stood up and was like "HA! HE'S ALIVE, SUCKERS! WOOT!"**

**Nic: Should I know who that is?**

**Nyx: Eh some people might. Anyway, since apparently nobody likes Phil (nobody reviewed for poor Phil. Shame on you. You've wounded his ego), this time I'll just say 'please review' and leave it at that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I ought to get to sleep. I have to cram more animation tomorrow. Or, later today, depending on your time zone. See y'all on Saturday.**

**Nic: You should say 'review if you like Ethan.' I bet that'd work. ;3**


	27. Dandelion

**DISCLAIMER: We still do not own PJatO. Else we'd have seen more of Ethan.**

oOo

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, stretching. "And so is he."

Hunter sighed heavily and plopped herself down on my bed. The noise of the pack's barking couldn't be heard up here. Her fingers played with the pillow behind her head as she said, "Good. I guess. Though I wouldn't recommend five hundred second chances. Trust me; even if he says he didn't mean it, it's liable to happen again. And again. And again."

I grimaced, knowing all too well what she was thinking of. "Alright. Though he's usually in a good mood after working with ghosts."

"He could be in a good mood after pulverizing some helpless Olympian demigod, too," Hunter muttered. "Just… Be careful."

I turned from my suitcase, jacket still in hand, and stared at her. "Alright. What happened."

She rolled over and buried her face in the pillows, then mumbled something to them.

A heavy sigh gathered in my chest as I slid the jacket on. "Tell me fast, because he'll be calling me down to talk to Annabeth soon, and then we're off to the abandoned apartment building." I sat on the bed with my back to her.

"I threatened him," she muttered.

I shrugged. "So? You threaten anyone who looks at you funny."

"Yeah, but I meant it this time. I wanted to smack him around for whatever he'd done."

A great, depressing weight landed on my shoulders. I hung my head and sighed, but that just seemed to add the pressure to my chest, too. "…Hunter…"

"I'm not kidding. I legitimately wanted to take him and-"

"Hunter, you legitimately want to take anyone who gets on your nerves. Don't worry about it. You're not your father; that's final. We agreed we wouldn't settle for anything less."

"Bree. This isn't a joke. Nor is it like it is in a battle. It's just sadism."

The pressure grew worse. I groaned and fell back onto the bed beside her. "Ugh. I know. I know. I'm listening. This just sucks."

"Hm," she agreed, quiet.

I knew what it was like to think of myself as a demon. To fear I was one. The memory made me cringe as if from a wound so fresh it still bled. "Look, it's not like… I mean…"

"Even if it was in your defense, I'm starting to think it's pretty screwed up," she muttered.

"You never considered standing up for Brook or me as sadism before, Hunter. It was always justified. Standing up, fighting back. Making sure people didn't mess with you again. Heck, the whole economy and social structure of Mount Othrys was like that."

"Exactly," she muttered. "There's the messed-up place that was, and Kronos's messed-up mind… I saw the way he looked at Ethan. When Ethan stepped in during one of his… fits. I saw the way he looked at me when I walked into training with a cut on my arm from a scuffle in the dining hall. He wanted to stand up for me, too, Bree. So what does that say about this?"

I was quiet for a long while.

She huffed and rolled over, hiding her face in the pillow again.

"You know," I said, very tentative. I didn't want to say it. Yet I did. "…You tell me all the time it isn't black and white. There were parts of him that were okay. Great, even. I've seen the way you looked at him, too, and it made me wish I could look at my own father like that."

She muttered something into the fluffy cushion. She knew I didn't really believe that about her father.

"And you've been defending us, just as we've defended you, since long before we met him. So don't… Don't worry about it."

Nico's words came back to me. How he was sometimes a little scared of her. Maybe more than a little. Part of that might just be his normal antisocial habits, but…

I shook my head vigorously. "You know what? Forget it. You did nothing wrong, alright? Though if you want to tone it down a bit, nobody is going to blame you."

She sighed as if she'd been holding Atlas's burden for a long, long while and just been told she'd have to hold it for years more. "Fine."

Unfinished business and unspoken words rang air, forming a tension between us so thick I could've eaten like it was ice cream.

But I didn't. Instead I sat there and let it freeze me to death, wondering what on earth I could do. And knowing what I couldn't. The air to my right was the coldest.

Eventually, I decided I better leave before Hunter froze, too. So I got up and went downstairs to look for my half-brother.

oOo

He was still packing.

Desperate to find something that'd dictate my attention with the force and cruelty Kronos had his armies and wouldn't give me the urge to ask a for a dead man's help, I said, "Wow. All this?"  
Nico shrugged and set his bag on the table. "It's not much, actually. Food, water, nectar. There's some books that I've never read… a couple empty CD cases… ooh, look, eight markers… I think I got a collapsible pot in here, too…"

"Are we going camping?"

"No, but think about the memories your sword holds. And the memory I found for Shane of his father's paintings. You'd be surprised at what things can soothe a tortured ghost. Or even save it."

"Speaking of such, where is Shane now?"

"Oh, he's been in the Universal Studios for a long while now. Finally got on the boat just a day before Olympus shut down."

"You mean you fixed him?"

Nico grimaced and straightened. "Don't go saying 'fixed', alright? That sounds like there was a problem with him."

"Oh." I looked at my feet. "So… what did you do?"

"Most trapped ghosts are ones that make it to the Studios and onto Charon's boat, but can't toss their wishes and questions into the Styx as they cross it." He motioned for me to sit at the table. "It isn't called the River of Broken Dreams for no reason. The dead have to let go of life the same way we have to let go of them. If you can't do that, well, it complicates things."

I nodded, familiar with this much. "And Shane?"

"He had to know why. If someone you loved turned on you and decided to slice you up to little bits, with no explanation, wouldn't it kind of upset you?"

The image also summoned that of a scythe, both Celestial bronze and steel. Of golden eyes. Of an old story we used to tell Brook to help her sleep. "…Yeah, I guess it would…"

Nico shrugged. "He just needed a little help. There are two ways to free a ghost like that; help them let go, or help them figure it out. Though often times, once a spirit has damned themselves to an extended existence here, they have made their choice, and there's no going back. They can't just forget it. They are permanently cursed, so it leaves just the one option of solving the problem. As was Shane's case."

He had never told me so much of spirits before. I stared at the table and wondered if he'd tell me more tonight, or if he'd shut me out like last time. "…So why?"

"It was easier once he recalled her name. I can't exactly do all the work for them; we work together. I offer my hands." To demonstrate, he held them above the table and clenched his fists. The silver skull ring glinted like a cat's eyes; silent, wise, and withdrawn. Stoic and just a little superior. "I'm willing to help them with material objects and offer counsel on the rest. That's what we're doing tonight. Alright?"

I nodded seriously, still praying for more information. His words had sparked a fire in my mind. I needed to find some more wood. "Alright."

He nodded and drew his hands back. "Good. Now don't ask any more questions."

"But you didn't tell me why Shane's _Her _killed him."

A sad smile crossed his face. "It was an old rivalry and a troubled past and a little devil's interference. The details don't matter; it's in the past now. As is he. Try not to wonder about him too much."

"So I can't think about dead people?" I asked, the fire suddenly extinguished. Confusion and disappointment rained down like it does in Seattle when Zeus throws one of his hissy fits.

Nico gave that, barking, mirthless laugh that matched his Cheshire smile. "Oh, yeah, you can remember. You can think. If you couldn't, why would Stygian iron record anything? I specifically said not to _wonder._ Which you should keep in mind tonight as well."

Another memory surfaced in my mind. A dark-haired boy with bright eyes and a raven on his shoulder.

Nico wasn't lying about helping ghosts often.

Nor was he lying about wondering being a bad idea.

He stood and stretched. "Ugh. Let's get this over with." From his pocket came a golden drachma.

I followed him to the sink, which he turned on full-blast with the handle labeled _hot._ Then together we pulled back the curtains and let sunlight stream in and flood the rising steam with a dazzling display of reds, blues, greens, yellows, and every color in between.

Nico murmured the ancient incantation under his breath. The coin fell into the sink with a loud clatter.

"Oh, right!" I yelped as I saw it land. "Iris isn't carrying messages anymore."

Nico sighed and rubbed his temple. "Right. Right. We'll have to shadow travel. Great."

"Can your leg handle it?"

"Just fine," he said, almost defensively. "I mean the exertion. And I know we have nectar, but I'm not inclined to be using it lightly."

"And I can't go to Camp," I sighed. "So we're on our own, then?"

"Yes," he said, far too quickly for me to believe it. He turned and strode for the door. "Come on; let's go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. The sun isn't near setting. Get your butt back here and tell me what you're hiding."

"I'm not _hiding _anything," he said, glaring. "I'm just… preserving sanity."

For some reason I was tempted to laugh. "Spit it out."

He grumbled and began to sort through his bag again. Now I knew what was funny; it was his face. Though he didn't look like he was joking.

Eventually he just held out his hand, a crumpled paper squished between his fingers. He refused to look at me as I took it.

On it was a number.

I frowned. "I thought demigods couldn't use cell phones or internet. Monsters track them."

"They do. But Annabeth is in Camp, which still has its borders, and we're here. I don't know if this place will protect us or not, but even if it would, I'm not eager to try."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Have you ever tried to work a phone? They're these little infernal devices with bright screens and loud noises and you can't even click the right thing because of something Annabeth calls 'caliphate'-"

"Calibration?" I half corrected, half guessed.

"-And then there's all these crazy apps that can track your exact location with these weird things up in space-"

"Satellites?"

"-And stupid prank calls and people who track your phone in order to do harmful things. I have no idea what makes a phone worth it."

I waited for more, but he stood there with his feet spread and arms crossed and glaring at some imaginary communication device in front of him. He was not going to budge.

"What about texting?" I asked.

He blinked. "What's texting?"

"Never mind. I don't think Hunter's phone texts, anyway. We'll just have to call."

"Dude, a phone isn't worth it for a human, and they get multiple uses for it. Us? We can only use it once. Then we have to destroy it and hope that one call doesn't get us killed. It's not worth it."

"And if the Hecate cabin knows how to beat those diamonds? I mean, better than we do? If they know how to get around them?"

He fell silent.

"I rest my case. Let's go ask Hunter for the emergency phone."

oOo

"Hello?"

"Hey, Annabeth," I said, waving at the phone before remembering she couldn't see me. I put my hand down real fast.

Nico just glared at the little machine with a murderous light in his eyes.

"You're on speaker," I informed her. "This is Bree. From, um, that time on Olympus. I tried to kill you, remember? And Nico's here, too, but he doesn't like phones."

"Ah. Hey, Nico," Annabeth said, voice warbled with the phone's static.

"Hey," Nico spat curtly. She laughed at him.

"So, um," I began, worried he was going to destroy the phone soon. "We don't have much time, but we had a few questions for you."

"What questions?" a new voice asked.

"Shush, Percy. Let them talk," Annabeth scolded.

Anxiety wormed in my stomach. I glanced around the room, but he and I were alone here in one of the spare bedrooms. Hunter had wished to be left to her thoughts, and Brook was still working with her pack. "Uh, well, see, there were these Cyclopes. And they had diamonds. And then they had webs and it wouldn't let magic work. And we wondered what you knew. Maybe the Hecate cabin had something in mind."

Silence.

"Uh…. What?" Percy asked.

"She means magic-resistant stones," Nico said for me in a monotone. "They look like diamonds, but shoot out these crystal webs that resist magic. A few Cyclopes used them to attack us the other day. And last night, I ran into Dr. Thorn again. He had one attached to him to stop any magic attack we could've used."

_Dr. Thorn? I thought it was the Manticore…_

…Oh.

So that's where he'd seen the Manticore before. It used to be his Vice Principal.

"…Huh," Annabeth said as Percy yelped, "The Manticore? Already?"

Nico sighed heavily. "Perce, the monsters aren't staying dead. We knew this already. So technically we could have Typhon storming the country again by tomorrow."

Silence.

"Well," Annabeth said too cheerfully, "that's the first time we've heard of magic-resistant stones. Do you know what in particular they're made of? Diamond, you said?"

"Something that looks like diamond," I provided, "but I'm not sure that's what it is. The webs can be deactivated by destroying their center – I did it with Întuneric once, and another time with drakon venom – or by a magic touch from another person. If the person it's latched on uses magic, though, it tightens and kind of burns."

"Alright. I can ask Lou Ellen if she's seen anything like that before," Annabeth suggested. "Oh, and she says hi, by the way."

I frowned. "What?"

"Lou Ellen. She was one of your rebel friends from the Titan War."

"…Oh," I said. "And she's allowed at Camp?"

"She's forbidden to leave, actually," Annabeth said. "She didn't have family to go to like you guys did."

"…Oh," I just repeated.

"Plus she's actually a demigod," Percy piped up. There was a sharp smack and he cried out.

Yeah, that, too. Hunter, Brook, and me in Camp? Ha! We'd over throw it. We couldn't be trusted.

Because even away from Mount Othrys, I was still a freak. I didn't even fit in their world.

A door opened and closed in the background. "Hey, you," a gruff voice said. "Yeah, you. Grover's looking for ya."

"He's back?" Percy asked, sounding very excited.

"Apparently," the gruff voice growled. "Now get out of here before I decide it's faster to just throw you out the window."

"On it!" Percy yelped, and the door shut again.

"Punk," the voice snorted after him. "Hey, Annabeth. I wanted to know-"

"Clarisse, I'm on the phone," Annabeth chided.

Clarisse didn't get the message. "Oh? With who?"

"Nico. Now go-"

"Oh! That little runt! I remember him!"

"Hey, Clarisse," Nico sighed.

"Hey, Runt," she greeted. "How's it like out there beyond these stupid borders? Any excitement? How's the game running?"

"There's game to spare," Nico muttered. "They're not too happy with us right now. They know we're vulnerable."

He didn't mention their interest in me. Nor Gaea's involvement.

"Any sign of the Olympians?"

"I'll just sit here and, you know, let you two talk," Annabeth said nonchalantly.

She was ignored. "Nope," Nico answered Clarisse.

"No? Not even your step mom?"

"Persephone? Thank the Fates, no."

"You sure? She doesn't, like, talk through dandelions or something?" Clarisse began to laugh, leaving me quite bewildered.

Nico scowled. "Not anymore, apparently. Though if you keep that up I could see her marching up here to pound your sorry a-"

"Dude, she's a flower goddess. I'm not scared."

"You ought to be."

"Just because you failed to outrun her once-"

"You try telling her off! She's got the temper of a starved werewolf!"

"Oooh, I'll be turned into a dandelion. So scared. Hey, _you _lived, so it can't be all that bad."

I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. Nico sent me a violent look.

Which of course made me laugh harder.

"You must've been one hell of a dandelion," I managed.

"…Should I hang up now?" Annabeth suggested.

"That would be great," Nico growled stiffly. The line beeped and went dead, cutting off another rant from Clarisse. He stood, yanked the phone from the bed, and marched out the door. No sooner had he left did I burst into true hysterics.

Nico. A dandelion. A little puffball of a flower. One very ticked-off seed head.

Out in the hall, I heard him yell and something crashed into the wall. Laughs burst from Hunter, Brook and – a hair-raising, cackling, creepy hyena sound – Moon. Nico cursed at them in Greek and plodded down the stairs. Two moments later I could hear the kitchen's blender whirring.

I stepped out of the room to find my sisters and their wolf backed against the wall still giggling. They'd heard every word.

Elated, I pointed at them and laughed harder. Of course they'd heard it all. I honestly should've expected it, anyway. Blissful mirth bubbled in my chest.

"Hey!" Nico barked from downstairs. "Are you still coming, Bree, or not?!"

I did my best to stifle my laughs. "Alright, alright! I'm coming!" Quieter, to the others, "Be careful while we're gone."

"Hey, while you're out, grab some flowers," Hunter smiled. "I was meaning to give the table a centerpiece, anyway. Anything, oh, white will do. Maybe some yellow." Next to her, Brook burst into laughter again.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Nico growled, randomly appearing at the top of the stairs. Shadows played with the sleeves on his jacket. "I'm going to poison your Cheerios tomorrow. Heads up."

"Good thing dandelions are legendary detoxifiers," Brook smiled innocently. Moon's shrieking laughter grew louder.

I smiled and picked my way around them, heading for my half-brother. He rolled his eyes and marched down the stairs, across the living room, and out the door without another word.

oOo

**Nyx: So yeah I stayed up until three last night animating. Woke up at nine. Played with cat. Went back to bed. Woke up later. Totally forgot I had to post the chapter. Sorry about that.**

**Nic: How could you forget?**

**Nyx: My mind was occupied with screenwriting. Anyway, I like this chapter a lot better than the last. It wasn't meant to be this long but I think I like that change, too. Please review, guys! We really appreciate all feedback! Oh, and happy summer! I felt like saying that…**

**Nic: Of course you did. Over half way through summer. You're ALWAYS late, aren't you?**

**Nyx: Eh… Could we call that a theme, maybe?...**


	28. Cats

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns PJatO.**

oOo

"Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight! We saw them leave!" Dr. Thorn hissed, smacking his partner upside the head. "And there's no other time we'll get her away from the others!"

His partner scowled and rubbed his head. It'd been a light blow; similar to that of being hit with a hammer. Every instinct he had, as old as Western Civilization itself, screamed for him to run. For demigods were not meant to be this close to monsters and live.

Nor so close to the Underworld. Especially in his case.

And at night, when he only had the Manticore for company, now whispered cold things in his ears and send chills up his spine. The stars, once so wonderful and bright to him… Once bright flecks of paint splattered across the purple backdrop, the secrets of the gods spilled out across the sky… It was flat now. Dull. Oh, he could see them despite the city lights. But they were dead.

"Interesting?"

He jumped and gave Dr. Thorn a weary look. The big cat had moved on silent paws and now sat beside him, scorpion tail flicking, head cocked to one curious side. "Interesting?" he repeated.

"What, the stars?" he asked. "Well, I-"

"They better be. I have permission to eat you if you decide they aren't."

He scowled and it took all he had to resist the burning urge in his hand. Oh, to hear it crack across the demon's face. But he barely withheld. "Petty threat," he growled instead, "compared to the hell you've already decided to put us through."

The demon snickered. "Of course."

The fury was building in his throat now. "Would you like me to silence you?"

"Oh, please do, half-blood. Give away our position and keep me at bay so that we miss our opportunity. I'll be sure to tell the Patron why she doesn't have the Daughter of Darkness in her hands when I see her again."

Fear. It was cold, bold and daring ice untouched by the fires of hate, poisoning his rage like drops of blood on innocent green grass.

Because they did have something hanging over him, something worse than death.

The cat laughed as he looked away. "Ah, now there's a good little hero. You're determined to keep your head this time around, aren't you?"

He grit his teeth and didn't speak.

"Well. I'll be in my place. You just stay hidden and do your stupid animal thing. You know what to do once we have her?"

"Yes," the half-blood whispered, staring at the concrete.

"Good. Just the guitar, remember? Wait for the rest until we have the Patron's permission."

"It's not a guitar! It's-"

"Like I care. Just behave, alright?" The bone-snapping clack of his teeth rang through the night, above the honking cars and blowing wind. A chilling, murderous purr rose from the monster's throat. "Else she will know about it."

The demigod sighed and slumped against the wall as the demon disappeared into the apartment building, dreaming of his reward. It was the only thing he still had to live for.

Yet it was all he needed.

oOo

Luck had decided it liked her.

No sooner had the Manticore left did she turn and run, sprinting along the rooftop, thanking the gods and the Fates and even Kronos himself that she hadn't been scented. By the demon or the man he'd been with.

She hadn't understood much of that conversation, but she'd understood enough. And she understood what she had to do.

Because she'd be damned if she let the Patron reach those kids before she did.

oOo

Nico had decided I'd learned enough about the dead.

Silence fell over him as we walked. I asked him a couple times how long he'd been helping ghosts. I'd politely asked about his leg. I'd gently inquired if it was just phones he hated, or if it was technology in general.

He didn't respond to any of those questions.

Well. His offer to come apparently wasn't all I'd thought it was.

So I huffed and crossed my arms and followed him, pouting. Stupid little jerk. He was really starting to get on my nerves. I knew I shouldn't have forgiven him.

The apartment building and included ghost, however, were much more open.

I felt it coming on long before we reached the right street. Tingling in my fingertips. A pounding in my head that started small but grew and grew. Even a strange churning in my stomach. Looking for some sort of comfort, I put my headphones in and turned up the music.

Nico, of course, didn't seem to mind.

So while I was rocking out to Three Days Grace, doing my best to ignore the spirit's thoughts, and following him practically blind, he led us through LA's streets.

"The Universal Studios aren't far from here," he said as we stopped outside the tall grey building. I recognized this place – it was where we'd stopped earlier. The crack in the sidewalk shaped like an L was right next to the bent streetlight. Somebody had stolen my cinnamon rolls.

I sighed and put my little reprieve machine away. "So. We just gonna march in? Or are you going to keep the plan to yourself?"

"I told you; I'm going to work with the ghost. Probably help them find some memory to keep them pacified for a while. And we'll work towards finding out why they're here. You're going to sit and watch," he said, staring curiously at the window on the top floor. "One, it's dangerous to go playing around blindly. The mind is powerful but dangerous. Two, well, I never intended to teach you this, anyway."

"Good to know," I muttered.

Ignoring my discontent, he marched into the building. He disappeared into the shadows like he'd become one. I got up and followed. The old door creaked shut behind me.

Silence.

It was so quiet in there. Too quiet. Dark, dark shadows cast everywhere, some dull blue light filtering in though boarded-up windows and torn curtains. Some rooms were empty and blank as paper. An electric feeling was in the air, making me uneasy, something telling me there'd been a message on that paper before it was erased.

"Over here," Nico whispered, eyes glinting in the shadows from the corner. This room had a torn-up couch shoved against one wall. "Stairs."

No longer all that concerned about his cold shoulder, I followed obediently.

As we climbed the old wooden thing – it groaned and protested more than the staircase back home – I began to recognize the cold, hostile taint to the air.

It was a scent.

Three, to be precise. The sickly-sweet taint of death. I knew it well. I'd seen it first in the Battle of the Labyrinth and on the Hecate kid and in so many other places. More than I'd like to talk about. It's a scent I'd last seen standing about Ethan's shroud.

The second was starlight. I recognized it, though I hadn't smelled it when talking with Shane. It was the same thing. It was similar to the sweet side of death but much more… powerful. So cold it burned with a light that said I was nothing. I was worth so little, compared to that scent. Like I was standing before an angel or something.

The third…

"Ah," Nico said, taking a deep whiff. "I think I see what's going on here."

Between that and the hot torture gathering in me from the spirit's mind, I could hardly speak. "What…?"

"Ever tried to find the Universal Studios before you've been buried?"

"I haven't… died," I muttered.

"Yet," he laughed, almost giddily, and all but flew up the last few flights. I followed at a slower pace.

Then, rather suddenly, the pain stopped.

My head snapped into clarity like the last piece does into a puzzle. I straightened and tested my muscles, but they were easy to move. No ache burned in my throat. Breathing didn't hurt so much.

When I finally found Nico – hidden on an outside room on the top floor – he was standing alone.

"What happened?" I asked, choking on the stench.

"I've made a promise, and it was enough to make the spirit retreat. He's hiding in that vase over there," he said simply, pointing to a broken ceramic sculpture that stood alone on a broken table.

I blinked at it. "Are you serious? Just like that?"

He shrugged. "Well, you know how I said most spirits get trapped by not letting go?"

"Yeah…"

"Key word being _most._ The guy's body was never found and, as a result, wasn't buried. So I promised to fix that and he found a memory of his mother and now he's hiding in the vase."

I squinted at the pot. It was shaped like a cat and might've been a dark green, though in this light it was hard to tell. It fit in with the apartment building, too; a tall, leaning, grey, colorless husk that used to be busy but oh so unimportant. Chipped edges and scratches in the paint. All that.

But if I squinted harder…

…It glowed.

Furthermore, a warm sensation began to fill me, starting from the fingertips and working inwards. Like when I was little and would come running back to Hunter after a day of surviving the house's other foster kids. Having her listen and understand. Not tease me for my pale skin and quiet tenancies.

"Don't disturb him."

I turned and stared at Nico. "Hm?"

"Leave him be. We have no further business with him. Let's just get the body somewhere it'll be found."

"And then we know if trapped ghosts are getting into Hades?"

"Well, if there was only one type of trapped ghost to still make it in, it would be this kind," Nico sighed. "We'll have to find lots of lost ghosts to confirm anything."

"And I'll have to sit and watch every single one?" I muttered.

"Well, you don't have to come," he said sternly, and picked his way over the rubble of an old chair and out another door. "If you want to help, though, I wouldn't mind an extra pair of eyes. See if you can help me find the body."

The idea of finding and handling a dead body didn't disturb me as it once would have. I'd already done it too many times to count. "Oh, sure. I can't handle ghosts, but I can serve as your assistant. Fun." And with that I followed him into the hallway.

It was a long and forlorn corridor, with holes in the walls and cobwebs lining every surface like a thick layer of dust. My nose crinkled; yes, the ugly stench was much clearer here.

"He said it was in one of those rooms at the end," Nico said, lifting a slender hand to point. "You take the right, I'll take the left."

oOo

The last room.

The scent was really strong now, so strong I was holding my breath. It had to be in here.

One touch, and the door fell inward.

I didn't even have time to look at the room before Nico's voice came, a lighthouse in a storm, "I found it!"

"Oh, thank the gods," I muttered, and turned to leave the room behind.

And then I heard a sound.

It was like bone clacking on bone, the chatter of a skull's jaws. In an instant my nerves were electrified and I'd whirled, Întuneric in hand. A cold, eerie silence fell once more over the building.

And then I saw it. The paper flapping in the wind, pinned to a boarded window with cracks in the wood at the top. Paper uncoated by dust and surrounded by fingerprints in what had settled on the wood. A telltale white flag in the dark.

Someone had just been here.

_Should I read the note or go get Nico?_ Then I recalled his silence and snorted, stomped over to the note, and ripped it off the giant nail stabbed into the wood that'd been holding it. Scribbled in hasty, hardly readable handwriting were only two words;

_Get out._

I frowned. Way to be specific. Get out of what? This city? This building?

And then my gaze landed on the giant nail.

_"…Nico!"_

I turned and bolted through the house, feet skidding on the old wood and discarded rugs. Dark rooms and the long hallway swung by in a daze. My eyes dashed back and forth, almost panicked, looking for any warning-

-Floor.

I ran straight into something and crashed onto the old, soft wood. The nail impaled itself next to my face.

"Ow," Nico muttered, sitting up and rubbing his temple.

I groaned and pushed myself up, stretching my aching shoulder. But I didn't spend much time on it. "We have to get out of here. Now."

"I heard you yell," he said, getting to his feet quickly. "What-"

At that moment, the stairs began to groan.

He cursed and grabbed me, dragging us both back into a far room. We flattened ourselves against the wall and listened to the heavy footsteps climb the stairs.

"What was the screaming for?" Nico hissed, eyes locked on the door.

"Someone left us a note," I explained, "pegged to the window with a Manticore spike."

He leaned forward to glance into the hall, where I'd left the makeshift nail stuck in the floor. "Styx. That has to be him down there."

"Who left the note?"

"Don't know, don't care right now. Let's just-"

"Let's just what?"

Silence.

"Nico?"

He turned, a hand pulling frantically at his throat. His eyes had widened to great onyx gems. It didn't take me long to spot the real gem attached to his neck.

"Gods forbid we be able to, you know, just shadow travel out of here," I muttered, changing Întuneric into a dagger. From the stairs, the loud banging of the approaching demon could be heard. "Hold still."

Before I could even touch him, something hot and painful shot up my leg. I cried out and whirled, but no one was there. Just the other web wrapped around my shin.

"Run," Nico gasped, motioning frantically for the window. Together we turned and ran.

Behind us, a loud crashing noise came from the hallway. "I can smell you, _Ghost King!"_ a familiar French accent screeched.

Nico reached the window first. With two quick swipes of his sword, the wooden planks fell out of place. I didn't wait to see him climb through – I turned and raised Întuneric, ready for a fight.

"Come on!" Nico rasped, and yanked me out the window by my collar.

I yelped and flailed, utterly panicked. I was seven stories up and had just been pulled out of a window.

And then I landed on the wire mesh of the fire escape.

"Up!" Nico yelled, and began to clamber up to the roof.

"Up?!" I yelped, on his heels. "What's wrong with down?!"

Beneath us, the last boards on the window shattered with a horrible splintering sound, and Dr. Thorn burst into existence on the landing.

Then, with a sound like horrid, broken, tortured screams, the metal began to bend.

A furious roar exploded and the Manticore leapt, massive claws swiping at the stair beneath my feet. One caught on. The monster yelped desperately and tried to rise.

"Hey, kitty kitty," I snarled, and stomped on its paw.

With a sharp cry it fell back onto the landing. With one last shriek, the metal gave, and crumpled like paper. A screaming lion-demon fell seven flights.

I didn't wait to see him land.

With panicked breaths Nico and I leapt up onto the roof and bolted for the center. I had no clue where we were going or how to get down, but I trusted him the way I trusted Hunter or Ethan in a fight, and so I followed. His breathing had become labored now.

I turned and examined the roof. Wide. Flat. Empty. On two sides, other buildings were there, close enough to jump. Maybe the one on the right, since it was lower…

Nico gasped and choked as the gem on his throat shattered. Mνήμη was still sheathed; he was holding a small black throwing dagger to his neck. Glittering pieces of diamond fell around him.

The Manticore screeched again.

"Keep going!" I yelled, and bolted for the edge of the roof. Nico didn't hesitate to follow. In fact, there was an icy blast of shadows as he shot past and appeared across the chasm.

Upon seeing him appear, I skidded to a halt, suddenly terrified. Beneath me was air, just open air, all the long way down down down…. Onto asphalt…

"Bree! It's like six feet! Jump!"

Jump? Over that?

Ice was crawling up my throat. More importantly, it was heavy in my hand. The cold handle of a gun. The horrible realization of what Ethan had just-

"Bree! Now!"

"I can't!" I yelled, scrambling back. Oh, gods. The air was spinning like the broken and ravaged remains of Hunter's phone in the blender. A vortex. Like Tartarus. It'd suck you in and you wouldn't escape – just fall, fall, and fall…

"Well, well. Kitty's treed himself a little tweety bird!"

I swallowed and turned, staring the Manticore in the face. Twisted pieces of metal were stuck in his hide and his mouth hung open at a strange angle, fangs glistening in the low light. A giant pink tongue lolled out and licked his furry lips.

There was another cool whisper of shadows, and Nico appeared beside me, Mνήμη raised.

With another chuckle, the Manticore lunged.

Nico and I split, sprinting indifferent directions. I felt the roof tremble as the monster landed and howled in frustration. Another furious roar made my hair stand on end. Nico turned, aimed, and fired shadows from across the roof.

I risked a glance behind me. Of course, I was the one it'd decided to chase.

Faster. My legs ate up the space between me and the far side of the roof, dread building in my chest. If I couldn't jump the last one, there was no way I'd get this one.

Behind me, I heard the demon snicker.

Three seconds. One…

"Watch out!" Nico cried.

Two… Its feet pounding on the roof behind me like the beat of a war drum, or the solemn hum of passing cars at a funeral procession… Getting closer….

Now!

I slammed on the breaks and let myself slide onto the rough concrete, curled up in a pathetic little ball, Întuneric raised overhead. The Manticore yelled in shock and for a moment the stars were blotted out, their light vanished from the world. I shoved Întuneric upwards until I heard it scream.

And then it just sailed right over me and past the lip of the building.

With a panicked yell its claws flashed out, sinking into the stone. For one terrifying moment, it hung there, just a pair of jaws snapping hungrily over the edge of the building.

Nico chose then to attack, springing into reality and slicing off the toes of the monster. The demon screamed and disappeared once more.

Panting, I got to my feet. "Thanks."

He didn't waste much time on conversation. "Hold still." He knelt down to my captured leg.

I sighed and sat, closing my eyes and listening to the shadows. The Manticore's yells had quieted; it was dead. For now. The night's whispers ran like ice up my arms and told me so through silence. It brought back the memory of that strange language Nico and I had spoken. The beats and hisses and silent noises that'd had meaning. Overlaying it all, I could still hear the battle-ready music coming from my iPod.

Wait a second.

The crystal web vanished and Nico now held a stone. "Let's get out of here."

"No," I said. I felt my ears just to be sure but, yep, the ear buds were absent. I'd taken them out as we entered the apartment building. "Do you hear… music?"

He paused, looking like I'd just asked if he'd ever eat his pants, but slowly nodded. "…Yeah. Weird."

The sound rose up around us, getting louder. I got up and turned, turned again, an effort as futile as trying to fight by holding the sharp end of the sword. The sound was just coming from everywhere. The roof beneath our feet could've been the one singing.

At first I didn't understand. Nor did Nico. But then I felt it; a cold slip in the thoughts, a new sensation, the feeling that you were no longer alone. Like a ghost sliding his mind into yours. A cold brush wrapped itself in my head and made me shudder. It spoke like the song, of war and blood and horrible screams. Of the adrenaline rush. Bile started to rise in my throat.

Nico was betrayed by the expression written on his face; he could feel it, too. "Let's go."

oOo

**Nyx: Ooooh action. Fun. And cats – cats always make things better.**

**Nic: No, fat cats make everything better.**

**Nyx: *glances at cat* Yeah… Anyway, here's the chapter. Sorry it's just a tad late. But the animation project is done now and I can focus on this and on the cover again so yeah things should go better now.**

**Nic: Ethan's bringing sexy back. You need to post that picture. I was in tears when she showed me.**

**Nyx: Kol THAT picture. It's from the animation. It'll be our new avatar. Yay for fangirl-ness.**

**Nic: Yay for reviews too. But that little yellow button is getting lonely. For IT'S sake, pay it a visit. Help us in the mission to end the mistreatment of review buttons.**

**Nyx: Thanks to those who already, uh, donated. :3 Anywho, until Thursday!... *Eyes Nic's bag*…**

**Nic: *eyes Nyx* No way sister, *takes Altoids and throws them out window* that's not helping you get better. And since I'm visiting I can follow through on my threats… *takes out taser***

**Nyx: NOO-OO-OOO! I'VE BEEN GOOD, I SWEAR! *hides under bed with cat***

**Nic: *gets milk, cat leaves* :D**


	29. Lyrics

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO.**

oOo

We were ready to bolt. But at that moment, lights came on. All around the roof, a chain of bright bulbs that clearly hadn't been there before burst into reality, yellow light slicing at our eyes. I flinched and hid mine.

"_Erre es korakas!" _Nico screeched at the unseen singer.

Together, we turned and bolted once more for the edge of the building. The beat of the song grew faster, tightening on my mind, making me twitch to its beat and run in its pace. Advancing prison bars that made me flinch. Beside me, I could feel Nico fighting it, too.

Desperate to break the music's hold, we ran faster.

"PLAN B!" a furious French accent roared. Well, Styx. "PLAN B!"

My hands, fumbling as I ran and struggled to hold Întuneric, flew to my pocket. The headphones bounced about on limp strings and dangled where I couldn't so easily reach. My fingers started to twitch – the cords swinging – footsteps falling – to the beat of the song…

Frantic, my eyes found my half-brother, who undaunted by an iPod in his pocket had pulled ahead. His footsteps had fallen into time, too. Still we kept running. Closer… Closer to my sense of dread, closer to that cursed edge…

Oh, Styx! Thinking in time and speaking with rhymes; the song was advancing like a marching army on my mind…

I shook my head vigorously and grit my teeth. Information. Things began to recite in my head. Facts Nico had told me. And Nico's voice would never, under any circumstances, blend with any song. _There are four kinds of spirits; a human soul, dies and stays dead save the option to dip in the Lethe, can hold powers and connect to other supernatural forces in the body of a demigod… Nature spirits, reincarnated when killed… Demon essence, not a soul at all but an archetype. Can be killed and dispelled for a while but never die… Immortal entities or deities, strongly connected and one with primal forces and the Western Civilization, cannot be killed or dispelled but is contained within the body of the god or goddess, and through that can be trapped and controlled…_

It was working. And we were so close to the edge of the roof. One good effect of the battle-music; it raised my adrenaline levels. My eyes were sharp and oh so familiar with following a beat and embellishing notes into a dance, my body had prepared itself for a fight.

So I saw it nice and clear when it happened.

It just came bouncing along the roof. No one had thrown it. It surpassed me easily and bounce, bounce, bounced with the beat of that eerie voice like a dog following its owner on a leash. I opened my mouth to yell, but before I could, the music-abiding diamond slammed into Nico's back. Hard. I hit the brakes as he fell, skidding over the concrete and coming to a precarious, breath-taking stop over the edge of the building. He cried out and dug his nails into the concrete. His sword went flying out over the edge and sailed through the air, down into the alleyway.

"Mνήμη!" he cried, but hauled himself back onto the roof, anyway. I grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet.

And there, another three bouncing rocks. Moving in time to the music, tapping, the ornaments decorating the beat and rising voice. They glittered like the menacing eyes of a hungry demon as they approached.

"Split!" Nico cried, and shot off to the left. I didn't hesitate to question him.

All three rocks turned and bounced after me to the right. Odd chills went up my spine at the sight. It was like watching some creepy doll's eyes follow you across the room. And the music…. Still cold and advancing…

I ran faster and kept an eye out for the Manticore, expecting the music to catch up to me, but it didn't. It was even easy enough for me to control the rhyme in my thoughts. Strange, I could've sworn that spell-sung song had so much more potential…

Behind my back, I flung shadows at the stones. They stopped bouncing.

Other sounds were blurring into existence. Automatically in tune, as if created as part of the song, anyway. The scrape of something on the brick walls. A strange, animal-like chatter. Even the cars that drove past seemed to fit in with the crescendos and decrescendos. The other sounds of the city had dulled and faded, and submitted to the song.

Yet I still held my ground. Across the roof, I saw Nico struggling with the web spreading from his back.

The scraping sounds grew louder, rapping the staccato beats and the low threatening undertone. Clatter like that of dry bones rose into the air. Oh, it was a sound I knew well. This song matched war like none other I'd heard.

And then I saw them.

Animals. They crept over the edge of the roof and snarled, beady eyes glaring at me. Nico had ceased to exist to them. They appeared over the lip of the building and just kept crawling forward. Jaws full of white teeth snapped open and shut threateningly. I saw two raccoons, three stray cats, even the hissing of an angry snake. Many, many rats were starting to swarm the roof beneath its blinding lights. From down below I could hear the accented barking of dogs unable to climb.

And every single one was in time with the music.

Every little step, every twitch, every snarl and snap and growl and glazed glint in their eyes. Slaves to an implied beat and that ringing voice. Slaves to something of the same nature (though much more advanced) as the so-called beauty I could make with my violin. A strange mix of dread and hard acceptance settled like gravel in my stomach and I began to back away, heading for the center of the roof.

"Hey, Nico?" I asked once in earshot.

"Yeah?" he said, eyeing a squirrel foaming at the mouth.

"Now would be a great time to tell me some of those stories."

"I don't think I have one quite like this…" he admitted, kicking the rodent aside.

For a stunning moment, the music stopped. The animals fell silent. One last eerie note echoed in the air.

And then one of the cats shrieked. A loud, possessed, agonized, demonic battle cry. Utter chaos – and the music – exploded.

The dance began in earnest. Not quite the same as it had been before, no, it'd never be like that. But the notes ripped at the air and sliced at my ears just as the street creatures' claws did. I yelled in shock and blasted shadows into their midst. Among them were the shining forms of those bouncing stones.

The song grew louder still, rising into the sky around us.

Nico yelled a warning a moment before the concrete shook. I dared a glance – Dr. Thorn had returned to the roof and was circling our fight with the enslaved street animals, licking his lips eagerly. His tail flicked back and forth.

Fending off a raccoon with Întuneric, I reached behind me and touched the gem on Nico's back. Shadows pulsed through me and into it. I could feel the web flex outward and then wrap itself back around the gem. Nico yelled triumphantly and, faster than even I could keep track of, at least ten more animals disappeared.

The diamond, now a great sphere formed by the interlaced web branches, fell to the ground. Several of the stones were now these hollow balls, actually. They still twitched to the music but didn't start to bounce or fly at us.

"Silly heroes," Dr. Thorn purred. Even his voice wove between the singer's notes like a snake in a den.

_Why doesn't he attack already?!_ I thought, longing for a real challenge – for a demigod, killing nature spirits such as animals was kind of low – and half-noticing that yeah, the fact that he wasn't attacking ought to mean something to me. If they wanted me kidnapped, he should've lunged in and tried to finish it. Not like these animals were wearing us out much.

But I was too busy to care, and too busy hoping he'd come at us anyway.

"Scared, kitty kitty?" Nico growled in such a low and cold voice I started.

The demon snarled and kept pacing. I snuck glances at it between the angry snake and two furious birds that swooped down from above. They still moved in time, which meant they moved together, which meant I had a lot to evade at once; but somehow, I managed to fair well enough.

Nico snickered, milking the moment.

Dr. Thorn opened his mouth and let loose a teeth-rattling roar. "I _knew _I should've eaten you last night! Pesky little zombie." He stopped and glanced at the stones on the ground. "…On the other hand…"

And with that, he pounced.

Nico laughed. That crazy, unhinged Cheshire laugh. He lunged forward in a whisk of shadows and me, not knowing him that well but knowing him enough, I swooped in and took up the animals that'd been harassing him. There was a crash and a screech as he and the Manticore started to dance.

I hissed back at a pesky cat and did my best to ignore them.

The song went on, beating like the pulse of the city itself. For a moment, I was scared it could bend and control the concrete beneath my feet, to, but it didn't. Once again just short of something I'm sure it could've done. Instead, it only sped up. The animals sped with it. I grit my teeth; no, no, I would not submit to that beat, because not only was it the enemy's but it wasn't even Ethan's…

Fire shot up my right arm. I screamed and tossed Întuneric into the air, kicked a rat out of the way, and caught my sword in my left hand. Diamond webs shimmered happily in the harsh yellow lights across my right forearm.

Behind me, a rat slipped into my pant leg. I yelped and whirled, desperate to throw it out, but only got two more latched onto my jeans.

I muttered angrily and stabbed at the snake, at last catching its retreating head. It flopped on the ground like a taught rope suddenly cut loose.

The Manticore let out another pained screech, highlighting a blood-curdling spike in the music. A moment later, I felt shadows crawl up my right arm. The diamond dropped from me and landed in Nico's hand.

"Thanks," I said, blasting the last of the animals away.

"No problem," he said, leaping to one side to avoid a fired Manticore missile. In the process, the stone slipped from his fingers and to the ground, morphing into it customary orb. Even the fingers of the web twitched and crept and turned with each note of the strange song.

Dr. Thorn, the only one left, faced us and snarled.

Nico snarled back. "Kitty ain't a kitty. Kitty kitty's a chicken."

The demon licked its lips again and muttered, more to itself, "_Plan B. Plan B."_

"It's a Manticore," I whispered. "What is it waiting for?"

Nico's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak.

The monster locked eyes with him and scowled. "By the time I am done, Ghost King, you will wish I _had _eaten you last night. Mark my words. I will make you regret every second you've made me wait."

And with that, he turned and leapt off the roof.

"Wait!" Nico ordered and ran to where he'd disappeared, staring down at the street. But apparently he saw nothing. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, fingers tightening on Mνήμη. One of its glyphs was glowing – one I had discovered but only he had added, the one that let it return to its sheath at his call.

I let out one ragged breath after another, looking around. One by one, the lights began to switch off. The animals had vanished. The stones had, too. And the song, that beautiful song, was fading away…

"Do you hear that?" I asked as the sounds of the city began to take over once more.

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I hear it. Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Good. Then follow me. We've got to get the others and chase after them. Take nectar to make up for the shadow travel."

"Wait, what?" I asked, whirling to face him. "They just left! Why pick another fight?"

"You don't get it!" he yelled, eyes wide and teeth bared. "They only retreated because they have whatever it is they want! Did you not hear him threatening me?!"

I was silent, staring at him in confusion.

"The _Underworld!_ He's just sworn he'll take revenge on me, and _that _is the only thing left I have to care for!"

Oh… "And if he hurts the Underworld…"

Neither of us finished that sentence. We knew it wouldn't be good.

"The others," Nico panted. "We're wasting time. Let's get them and take them here. Brook's dogs can track the Manticore down. If we hurry, we might be able to stop whatever he's doing."

oOo

I could feel the spirit's mind now. They must've drifted from the vase out of curiosity; it could sense us nearby. The burning flames of living souls.

I shook off his thoughts and swallowed two mouthfuls of nectar, letting its warm taste flood my throat and glad to feel the tired pressure on my limbs lessen. Ugh, how I'd needed that…

"Got it!" Moon whispered. She gave Brook a wide-eyed glance.

I tore my gaze from them, to the street Moon's nose was pointed at, and at last to the old apartment building towering over us. Once more, curiosity flowed through me. _The body is still here, but they have left me… Has something happened? _There was no concern in the thought; just interest.

Brook shook her head. "Good, but don't howl. Keep quiet. We'll do our best to take them by surprise."

"They know we're coming," Nico scowled, fidgeting like he had basilisks in his pants.

"Yeah, they do," Hunter snapped at him, golden eyes flaring. "But they don't know how close we are or when or how we plan to attack. Screaming out our position does nothing but harm for us, anyway, so I suggest you pipe down and listen to orders."

"I don't take orders from you," he growled.

"If you want to live through tonight, you will," Hunter said through her teeth. "You recall what happened when we tried to fight the Venti. If we're that disorganized, we'll get slaughtered, and with us the last hope for Olympus. Would you want that to happen?"

"No," he muttered.

"And would you be willing to step up and lead in my place?" A bold question, only asked because she knew the answer.

"…No…"

"Then you'll take my orders and be happy with them. Moon, lead the way. Keep your pack on the lookout. Everyone else, stay close. Got it? Good. Let's move out."

I hastily put the nectar away as Moon took to a sprint down an alley across the street. Brook bounded after her, one moment our normal Brook and the next a silver wolf on four paws. She almost looked like a miniature Moon. Her pack split up and took detours, with only two following their Leader and Mistress. Hunter followed as a bright golden streak.

Nico sighed and, before him, the ground split open. Two skeletal horses came out. They bobbed their heads and shadows curled at their hooves, but they did not speak. There was no intrusion on my mind as I'd heard during the Battle of Manhattan. Nico was right; these spirits had been silenced.

Together, we mounted. Nico sealed the crack in the asphalt and we charged off after the others.

"Is your leg alright?" I asked as the dark alleyway flashed by. Hunter was emanating a golden glow up ahead, and we followed that to catch up.

He nodded and pushed his horse faster.

Above us, the city still howled and screeched and clattered. The sounds were cold and almost lonely after the wonderful music. Lighter, easier to bear, but definitely left so much to be desired. Despite it being such a dark melody… I'd never heard music like that before.

Call me an idiot, but I'd have loved to hear it again.

Before I knew it I was riding alongside Hunter's golden light and just behind four wolves. Nico had fallen behind to guard us from behind. I caught my sister's white river of a smile through the underbrush of her magic glow. Was it encouragement? A battle-hungry smirk? I wasn't sure.

Moon led us down streets and past alleys and even through yards, farther and farther away from the center of the city. We were on a lone and secluded neighborhood when she finally slowed down. Then she hid in the bushes and began to creep around to the backyard of a grand, expensive-looking house that some famous musician probably lived in. Quiet as to not disturb the humans, we followed.

What we discovered was a brief expanse of forest. This famous musician had a lot of trees in their backyard.

Nico and I climbed down and dismissed our mounts before crouching in the shrubs at the edge of the woods next to the others. "What are we looking at?" I asked.

"This was the house of the first Daylight Disaster victim," Hunter said grimly. "I memorized the list from that newspaper. He was killed up in the attic there. This Disaster must be tied to Gaea somehow."

"Or they took advantage of a giant vacant lot," Brook added in a whisper.

I looked up at the trees, and past them at the skies. Here the stars were still well-hidden, locked away behind closed doors and never to be told of lest news of their mistreatment be spread. Some people had probably never seen true stars, I realized. Living in a city like this.

The idea made me shudder.

"I see two up there," Nico provided, pointing with a pale and slender hand.

"Hm?" I turned and followed his gaze, only half-surprised he'd known what I was thinking. It's not like I'd been admiring the city lights up there. And, to my utter delight, he was right. Two stars way up in the north, daring to shine through the chaotic, smothering city lights. Little pinpoints of what once was and still is, just hidden. Of what was important.

"Ahead they are," Moon whispered, flicking her ears forward. "Trees hiders. Shelters. Ears are hidden from."

"Alright," Hunter breathed. "We'll spread out in a fan and move in. Once we know their position, watch for my signals. They'll tell you where to go and what to do. Nico… As much as I hate to shove all our eggs into one basket, stick next to Bree. Don't split up unless she tells you to, alright? Brook, watch our backs from the trees."

"On it," the smallest silver wolf whispered, and made a great leap to the nearest branch. Four tan paws landed on it and a slender tail swished back and forth for balance. The curved fangs of a mountain lion glinted down at us as she smiled.

Hunter gave us the silent signal to move forward, and that's what we did.

Creeping through forest is tricky. A more developed forest won't have undergrowth to hide under. But some do have undergrowth, some so thick you can't get through them. Thank the gods for the stroke of luck that this was neither of those. There was just enough for us to hide under. A little more would not have been bad, but our situation was as good as we could hope for.

Nico and I scooted to the left, making the edge of our fan. Hunter was on the other side, with the wolves in the middle and Brook overhead. On we marched.

After we'd gone a good fifty meters, Nico whispered, "Hey."

I glanced at him, his cue to continue.

"Look, I know… I know it might not have been what you expected, but… Thanks for coming ghost-hunting with me tonight."

I blinked, just a little shocked. Last I'd known, he'd offered for me to come and said he'd be just fine if I didn't. Save the monster lurking around. But I didn't think that's what he meant now.

And despite us getting ourselves into this mess, the idea of spirits still appealed to me. I had, to an extent, enjoyed it.

But of course I'd never tell him that.

We fell silent then and kept marching.

oOo

I don't know how long it was until we found them. Not long. Voices drifted to us quite soon after that.

Well, just one voice in particular.

I recognized it easily. Joy soared in my chest for a moment before the song took hold. A solemn, horrible thing that brought back images of Ethan and a dancing skeleton and the guilt, the horrible guilt. All those memories I'd read in Întuneric. They came back, full-force.

I'd taken that from this world. How could I have?

But as before, I still held control of my mind. Oh, I could just hear the strings playing along. And in the background, a guitar. Mr. Banks playing, of course; nobody could play as well as him. A wonderful part full of minor chords…

"I know that song!" I gasped quietly, tapping Nico. "It's the song from my dream!"

"And it's the singer that turned animals against us," he muttered. "Wonderful."

As we crept forward, the song then changed. The notes had this strange echo and through that a way of overlapping; a new song took over and played major chords as well. It dipped and turned and went fast and went slow. Lots of different styles of music.

Then a brutal, French-accented knife sliced through the sound.

"Why isn't it working?!"

The singing cut off abruptly. A softer, hard-to-hear voice answered.

"What?! Stop fooling around and cast the stupid spell!"

Once more, a gentle-toned voice answered.

"Cast it now before they get here! I can't defend you forever, you little brat!" A lion-like snarl accented that last insult.

"Dr. Thorn," the soft voice said. "I fear it's no use. We must go somewhere else. The best course of action would be to leave here now, before my identity is blown and they know what they must do to stop us."

Nico froze, eyes widening. Hunter caught sight and followed his example.

The Manticore snarled. "We cannot waste more time traveling! They will be here, and the sun will rise, and-"

"And at least we'd be further from them and closer to where I need to be," the voice finished. "We have what we need. Let's take it with us before we lose that as well."

Hunter's eyes met mine, and I nodded. Above us, Brook flicked her tail.

Both voices had fallen silent.

Then…

"COME OUT, SILLY HEROES!" thundered the Manticore. "I can smell you in there!"

"As you wish," Hunter complied in a voice cold and still as ice. She flicked one finger forward in the signal to attack.

oOo

**Nyx: OOOKAY so yeah the house was left in a great hurry this morning and… ah… Sorry. Between cinnamon rolls and running a brush through my mess of hair this kinda got forgotten. But I remembered later! Yay! Besides, now I can tell you guys about the rooster Nic and I found walking down the sidewalk. He had big feet.**

**Nic: I have a weird craving for chicken nuggets.**

**Nyx: Later we also saw a guy in an apron from the chicken restaurant come walking down the street looking for something. Heheheh lunchtime!**

**Nic: You're not helping.**

**Nyx: Anyway, I like this chapter. A lot. So please review and tell us how we've done! Srsly. Oh, and though I won't be posting my animation project online (this is the ONLY online account either of us has) but the new avatar is a screenshot from it. It is Ethan being sexy. See, the animation was a surprise for Nic, so…**

**Nic: It was a very nice surprise, sexy Ethan. :3 *nosebleed**

**Nyx: So yeah that's this week. Again, please review! And have a nice Friday.**

**Nic: *grabs Altoids can* …Did you finish this?**

**Nyx: *attempts to whistle and gazes out the window***

**Nic: You have a problem.**


	30. Chess (Again)

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: OH MY *censored* WORD YOU PICKED THAT AVATAR JUST TO TICK ME OFF DIDN'T YOU?! She does not deserve him. She ought to take her hand of him RIGHT NOW else she will LOSE THAT WHOLE ARM. Great gods of Olympus. Anyway, as far as your question, I will repeat this; this story has already been written. I appreciate the prediction, though. To see if it's right, you'll just have to read and find out.**

oOo

I got there just a moment later.

Shadows flashed by, pillars and branches and webs intertwining at my feet. The bleak grey overhead. And before me, blazing flames, a great and dangerous red. And… Off to the side, moving too fast to be mortal… A regular orange, human flame.

What the Pit…?

I didn't stop to think about it. I flung myself at the Manticore, with shadows and Întuneric and every hateful thought I had. The shadows twitched and whispered of his answering screech.

I rolled out of the shadows on the fringes of a clearing. Above us, the yellow city lights poured past the trees and onto the grass and the great writhing cat standing there, on the huge tail lashing back and forth and the poison-slicked spikes. Beside me, Nico blurred into existence, eyes glinting with the bloody fires of a fight.

We backed off into the trees and began to circle the patch of grass as a streak of golden light shot out of the woods. It slammed into the giant cat with the force of a car on the highway. The demon screamed as it rolled back, twisted, dug its claws into the ground and launched after Hunter.

She laughed and danced aside, letting Anonymous lead itself into the monster's shoulder.

Nico and I shot in again, him following my signal and running to Dr. Thorn's other side. We lunged as one for the monster's flanks. I screeched and whirled on Nico, slashing with unsheathed claws. His tail shot back out for me. I felt wind rush past as the tail crashed down not inches behind me.

Deciding it was better to be a living smart-butt than a dead goody-two shoes, I made the dirty move and curved to one side and attacked from behind. Fury felt like fire in my arms as I brought Întuneric down, down…

And it struck something solidly.

The Manticore screamed, truly screamed, and frantically ripped its tail free of my blade. The long weapon hung limply from his rear end. Blood oozed out of the torn flesh. With another horrified scream, the tail began to twitch and thrash. Darts went flying like he'd found himself a machine gun.

"MOVE!" Hunter yelled, code for 'get your sorry butt out of the way NOW.'

Nico and I dove for the trees and she hit the dirt as the darts flew, peppering the air and slamming into trees. Oversized bee-stingers sent wooden splinters and poison careening through the sky.

I narrowed my eyes and watched. Cats were expert stalkers, right? It was my turn to play predator. Slowly, inch by inch, I crept forward. Just watching… No, waiting…

And the predator strikes when they see fit.

Shadows lashed out like the silent blades of death itself. I shivered as they moved. Like the lack of breath or a pulse, not a sound was made. But there it was. The tail dropped all the way off and flopped rather unexcitedly to the ground.

The Manticore screeched and lunged for it, eyes wide and desperate. He found Nico in his way.

I got up to help, because there's no stopping the horror you feel when you see someone that small in the path of a monster's gaping maw that big, but Hunter gave me the signal to halt. She herself was hiding in the bushes. Reluctant, I got back down.

Nico faired just fine, though. One harsh snap of his wrist brought Mνήμη across the monster's face. A splash of telltale green glittered against the night like the prophecy's warning of death between its warbled mumbles and the demon spun away, shrieking. A great paw swung around to catch Nico over the head as it went.

Nico dropped, rolled and came back up with shadows behind him.

"Nico! Fall back!" Hunter yelled.

He sent her a glare over his shoulder. "What?!"

"MOVE!"

"You could get out here and _help me,_ too!"

In the moment of distraction, just a slip of hand and a moment of weakness, he was too slow to dodge. Another set of claws seemed to pass by harmlessly. But they were betrayed by the crimson that followed, spilling over into the grass. Nico didn't make a sound or face or even paled but instead hit the demon in the throat with shadows so hard the giant thing choked.

"I said MOVE!" Hunter screamed, tired. She shot forward and snatched him by the collar on his jacket. Before he could even protest, she had him back in the trees and secured in a headlock. "NOW!"

Ethan's sword had been named Savior. It had not been silver, but I swear, that was the colors of the shattered pieces that came flying from the woods. Like shrapnel flying in a reversed explosion, the wolves leapt from every side at once. Horrible snarls sliced through the air in a way that made me flinch. Silver arrows streamed in from overhead.

The Manticore did not last long.

If you can imagine several scissors tearing at one piece of paper at the same time, you can imagine what I was looking at. Pelts were ripped and blood was drawn. Things were hanging open that should not have been. Green, boiling blood coated it all. It was sprawled across the grass like sunlight over the desert. A tainted, poisonous sun of the darkest origins. And then there was the dust the color of Hunter's eyes like snow, coating the grass, sticking to the blood.

The wolves fell back, beaming at their work.

"Move!" Moon barked. "Death be last!"

I wasn't sure how to translate that until the wolves began their now-familiar task of pushing the dust aside.

Brook dropped to the ground not even feet from me, shaking leaves out of her hair. Her bow was still in her hands. "Fern, Star, Night – track the other that was with him!"

"He was human," I pointed out. "Or demigod. Not sure which."

She nodded in recognition. "Thanks." Meanwhile, mentioned wolves ran off into the woods, howling.

Hunter got up off the ground, releasing Nico and striding into the clearing. "Can they catch them?"

"My wolves? Catch a demigod?" Brook asked, almost horrified. "What on earth do you take us for? Of _course _they can catch a demigod."

She smiled. "Good. Help Bree and I search this place, see if they left anything behind. The ingredients for that spell or whatever. Though I suspect there are none; this might've just been them trying to lure Bree into their paws. Nico, help the wolves scatter the dust. See if you can work your Hades magic and find something that'll keep the thing dead."

"I work with mortal souls only," he drawled from where he was still crouched in the bushes. "Anything else is out of my depth."

"Eh, worth a shot."

I sighed, dusted the dirt off my pants (an old habit Kronos and Granny had both worked into me) and began patrolling the edge of the clearing, listening for demonic reinforcements and looking for anything of interest. The night stayed as silent and dignified as it had before, as if our little battle had not happened, much like a proud cat sitting on his high fence perch and watching over the wars of ants beneath her.

"Found something," Brook announced. Hunter and I turned and walked over when she beckoned. "Look at this."

"Spell ingredients?" Hunter guessed as the younger girl held up a big burlap sack.

"Nope, but you'll like it," Brook said, and turned the bag upside-down. Out of it fell stones.

"The magic diamonds!" Hunter exclaimed, bending down to poke them. Some were little glittering stones. Others had been broken and taken upon a dull, wilted existence. Still others were in the web-crafted orbs like Nico and I had seen earlier.

I knelt down next to her and lifted an orb. "Huh. I guess the demigod forgot to grab these when they ran off."

"We weren't exactly invited," Hunter beamed. "Keep that one for study. Destroy the others; they're more use to us dead than kept."

So we poked and prodded at the stones until they cracked. Anonymous and Întuneric made quick work of them while Brook took to finishing our patrol. With each broken stone, a strange throbbing would start in my forehead. I sighed and rubbed my temple; I didn't feel that tired, but a headache was a good sign of exhaustion being masked by adrenaline.

"Alright," Hunter sighed when the stones were gone. "Let's bust this joint and get home before the sun rises. _Do death are heroes damned by day,_ after all."

I sighed in advance for whatever snide comment Nico would make about the prophecy, but said snide comment didn't come.

While Brook called for her wolves and Hunter began scouting the woods for our return route, I scanned the clearing for Nico. He wasn't there.

"…Nico?" I called tentatively. Brook turned and stared, silent, realizing only then that he wasn't here.

"Behind the berry bush," came my half-brother's voice. I let out a tense breath. He was still hiding in the woods. I stepped around Moon and her friends and made my way to him.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting on the ground among the scuffle marks he and Hunter had left. I sat next to him. "You alright?"

"Fine," he lied, massaging his leg.

I sighed and pulled the leg of his jeans up to his knee. The brace on his shin had broken and from beneath seeped crimson. He pulled his hands back to himself as I removed the splinters, setting the shattered brace aside. "When did this happen? I only saw it get your arm."

"My, uh, arm's fine."

"Quit avoiding my questions."

He was silent a moment more before saying, "…Dr. Thorn didn't touch my leg. That was Hunter."

I looked up at him, utterly shocked. "What?"

"She had a tight grip."

"Well, now, you wouldn't listen to her orders after you said she would," I reasoned, more to myself than to him. "She was entitled to make sure you stayed put, and to be a tad rough."

The excuse sounded lame and dry, like old paper, to me. But he shrugged and didn't utter a word.

I sighed and handed him some nectar. "I think Hunter wants us at the house as soon as we can be there. You think you can wait until we're there to have Brook check it out?"

"I'm fine," he said, taking two long gulps before handing it back to me. With a grunt, he used to bush to haul himself to his feet. He stood rather lop-sided and swayed for a moment, but given an extra second, could stand on his own. I rubbed my forehead again and stood next to him.

Out in the clearing, Fern, Star, and Night had come back. Barked muffles and whispered whines were exchanged. Clearly, they hadn't been able to pick up a trail.

Odd, for wolves. Perhaps the monster's stench was too great.

I would not call what Nico had 'pride,' but whatever it was, to spare it I left him to his own devices and regrouped with the others. "We all ready?"

"That we are," Hunter sighed heavily. "Let's hurry and get back before daylight. I'd hate to be out here when Disaster strikes."

oOo

Nico's equivalent of pride did not last long.

Not even halfway to the house, I got sick of the bad limp and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. This time, he did not protest. We walked like that all the way back to the house, up the stairs, and into his makeshift room. There he stopped me as I headed out the door.

"Sis."

I hesitated, knowing that name was mine.

"Ach. Sorry. Bree – Bree, wait."

I glanced over my shoulder at the boy sitting on the bed, that familiar stranger. My gaze averted itself to the floor. "Hm?"

"You can come tomorrow night. When we fulfill that promise."

"You're not scared to take me along anymore?" I muttered. "I won't slow you down?"

He was silent for a moment. Then, "…No, I don't think so."

Another moment of silence. "Thanks," I said curtly. "Oh, and uh… you might want to wash the make-up off your face." I quickly (because seeing his reaction was not on my bucket list) closed the door behind me. Down the hall and followed the stairs and past the living room where Brook had crashed once more to the kitchen, I went, where Hunter was waiting.

She looked up from her magic orb. "Hm?"

"Are you alright?"

She smiled down at her orb. "Never better. Magic puzzles, insubordinate team members, strange prophecy, demons that don't die, things wanting us dead. Never better."

I sighed and sat down across from her. "That's not what I meant."

The orb suddenly held much less interest than the table. "…Look…"

"You don't have to justify yourself to me, Hunter. We're sisters. Whatever you have to say, say it."

At last she looked up, eyes wide. The crickets outside stopped chirping. Gods, the stories those golden eyes alone could tell, let alone that parted mouth. White teeth and a motionless tongue frozen not in time but in horror. Fear in those pools of liquid gold the way there is web in a spider. Not something that can be undone. Something that had been permanently placed there and would always return, no matter how many times it was used to build a trap. "I swear, I didn't mean it."

I was silent and waited for more.

"I grabbed him and pulled him aside. No, I was not gentle. And I held him down. Naturally, he squirmed and tried to get out, but… I stopped him. And to teach him a lesson I might have grabbed the cut on his arm and pressed on his leg to the point where it visibly hurt." She shrugged. "And… And then the splint snapped, and suddenly I did mean it. Suddenly I didn't care. It was just nice to see the look on his face."

Silence.

"Hunter, you're Hunter. He promised to take your orders and then didn't. And to keep him still on top of it – you were justified in taking advantage there. How many times have I done something stupid, and then you publicized it just to watch me squirm? Now, did I ever do those stupid things again? Honestly, I'd have pushed on the cut, too."

"Oh? That much? So that the splint shattered?"

I stared at my feet.

"Bree, you are so rigged. Before, when I tried to justify myself, you were the one who said what I hid from myself. You were the one who told me Kronos was influencing me and shouldn't be messed with. And now that my conscious has been converted, you sit here and say the opposite. You make excuses. You lie to yourself, even, so you can spit the lie back out to me. That it's alright, that some things aren't bad, that I'm justified. Just like the small voice in the back of my head _now._ You've made it your job to do nothing but repeat what I tell myself all the time, to be my subconscious, that small voice, the contradiction to what I believe, the arguer, the other side of things. So unless you have something smart to say, from your own mind, please shut up and leave me to myself."

I lifted my gaze to her. But her gaze was hard and unmoving; she was serious.

"Well." Slowly, I stood. "If you ever do want to talk, I'm willing."

"I know that. I would come and get you if need be."

"…Alright. Oh, and I'm heading out with Nico again tonight."

"You sure it's safe to go alone?" she murmured, tapping her orb.

"Absolutely not. But it'll be mostly shadow traveling."

She sighed heavily. "Be careful. You just don't know what's lurking around out there."

oOo

"We could've avoided this whole mess if you'd just cast the spell when I ASKED you to!" the demon screeched, stomping back and forth and back and forth. Its deadly tail switched around and threatened to fire its missiles.

His demigod accomplice flinched back. "I told you; it was impossible. I couldn't _see _it, let alone cast any sort of spell for it!"

The demon snorted. "Great. So now not only must we get her, but we must get her waaaaaaaaay out to your stupid location. Do you have any ideas on just how to do that, silly hero?"

The demigod looked at his feet. He'd been thinking; yes, he did indeed have an idea.

But it was a game carefully played. And the monster before him didn't do _carefully _very well.

_Besides,_ he thought, _this is not the time for improvisations. The wrong notes will spell hell for me. Best not experiment, anyway._

_ But if it were to work…_

The demon huffed and sat down heavily. "This is quite the conundrum. Ach, if only there were fewer. Or if we had reinforcements."

The demigod sighed and rolled his eyes. "If only. If only. Let me do you a favor, you infernal little cat; 'If only' does not work. What's in the past is in the past and it's best not to look back. Separating them is out of the question because it hasn't worked before. It's time for new tactics."

"Attack them, you mean? Even if they aren't in the base… You expect us to kill them all? Even to take a single one?"

He sighed. _Here we go._ "…There is one way it could be possible."

The cat's ears pricked up and, for once, that French accent was silent.

"We'll need time. A few days, to let things cool down and for a couple reinforcements. The element of surprise, which should be easy. We must find the place for my spell. Oh, and stones. Don't forget the stones. If we can get a hold of these things, I swear, the Patron will have what she wants in three days' time. The Daughter of Darkness won't be a trouble for much longer."

oOo

I woke to laughter.

Oh, what a sound. Brook laughing. I rolled out of bed, threw on some new clothes, and ran down the stairs. The house had a nice, pleasant, strange smell I could not name. It was wonderful. Brook was standing on her tip-toes to gaze out the window. Her eager little hands were clasped with eagerness to her chest and her loyal wolf was grinning creepily.

I smiled at the sight. "What's so exciting?"

"The stray dog came back!" she beamed. "He remembered me feeding him yesterday."

"Oh, he did?" I joined her at the window to have a look. Sure enough, there the dog was. He had fur of black, chocolate brown, peanut butter caramel, and white. The three former were mottled all over him like they'd been thrown into a blender and splashed across his fur. Forlorn eyes outlined in that black and caramel refused to look at us through the window. The white coated only the edges of his ears and toes. He was a strange breed, too; similar to a lab but much bigger. His legs were short and squat compared to his body like he's spend way too much time crouching when he was little.

"Yep," Brook smiled. "He won't cross the street to get over here, and he likes to walk off all the time, but he checks back here on regular intervals."

"That's what happens when you give a starving stray some food," I chuckled. "Where are the others?"

"Uh, I think Nico's still sleeping. Hunter's in the kitchen wrestling with some microwave meals she brought with us for breakfast slash dinner or whatever. Give it a few minutes; you'll smell it burning soon enough."

We exchanged a knowing glance and I left her there, marveling over her new friend. Hunter was indeed reading the instructions on the back of a colorful cardboard box. Before her was a frozen hunk of macaroni and cheese.

"Having fun there?" I asked.

"Loads," she said, dumping the icy rock into the microwave and pushing a button. It came to life with a lazy whirring sound. "I'd like to see you cook."

"Really? You really want to see that?"

"Hm, on second thought, no." She laughed. "So, what's up?"

"Well, nothing much. Just kinda slept since I last talked with you. Still don't know what the Patron wants me for. What about you? Still upset?"

She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, leaning back against the counter. The afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window shone brilliantly on her golden strands. "Ugh. It was a familiar method, a familiar thing. You're right about that. But suddenly it went too far. I can't trust myself anymore, me or my training or those subconscious thoughts you echo back to me."

"I could-"

"Bree, I appreciate the help, and I know I said we'd do this together, but give me some space. I need to make a few conclusions on my own right now."

"Oh." I looked down at my feet once more. My stomach, little rebel it was, rumbled loudly.

"Nico went down into the basement again, if you're looking for him," Hunter said.

"Yeah! Yeah, that's what… I was looking for…" I trailed off. Before I could screw up further, I dove for the shadows and through them raced for the boxy light shades lit by a familiar orange candle.

oOo

**Nyx: So yeah hi, guys. Happy Saturday. I think I like this chapter, so please do review. Nothing's really changed since Thursday, I think… Hm… Nic and I embarrassed ourselves in public again… We heard a funny limerick from Sebastian Michaelis… Am I missing something, Nic?**

**Nic: *wipes tears away* Glue…**

**Nyx: Oh and our poll for slapping PJatO/HoO characters. Three people voted for Octavian, one for 'other', and Fates know why, another for Nico. :/ new poll will be up soon. I think we'll repost the fav. characters one.**

**Nic: Anyways, please review. We're hermits and we look forward to reading them. If we don't get contact from the outside world we get wound a little tight. Nyx especially. (reference top of page).**

**Nyx: *petting cat* Ah… That was not fair… She had a picture of Hazel and Nico together on her avatar…**

**Nic: *whacks Nyx over the head with an Altoids can* Violence is never the answer!**

**Nyx's fat cat: Merp…**


	31. Silver Linings

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan is still in possession of PJatO and HoO. Else we would have seen a very sexy Ethan in several scenes.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms - Yes, we update fast. We are eager to get the series finished. And eager to write it. And even more so, original works that we will focus on afterwards (these original works are where Nyx got her nick/pen name, actually). Five books will fly by at this pace, hopefully. And about that - there are five books to this fanfiction series. So to answer your predictions... Big spoilers? All we can say is **_**be patient. **_** Our 'godly parents' can be found on our profile, though Nyx's likes to flop between Roman and Greek forms often. Our characters are very similar to us. **

oOo

"Hey," he said without looking up from where he was, cleaning the underside of a gleaming silver table.

"Hello," I greeted, and without further conversation grabbed the nearest container of wipes to work on the counter and sink.

We worked in comfortable silence for a while. On the third room, he said, "I still don't get it."

"Don't get what?"

"Gaea. Her next big move is here; that's clear, and not all that confusing. Nobody would be defending the Underworld. We're nothing compared to the way Camp is swarming Olympus. And Hades has sufficient power. Imagine if she managed to start the zombie apocalypse. All she has to do is… Is… Well, I don't know. The fact that her minions are struggling so much here leads me to believe she's not inside. But I know for sure she's why they closed down."

"Maybe it was to prevent her from going in. You said that Pluto knew something."

"That he did. Does. But what doesn't add up to that is you. Why on earth does she need you alive and at her side? Certainly not for information. I have far more than you do when it comes to the afterlife. And I also hold more power over the dead. So if she wants into the Underworld, she should be gunning for me. You have no idea how much I wish she was. At least things would start to make sense."

I sighed and shook my head. "I shouldn't be saying this after Kronos's armies, but I think it's safe now to say that about Gaea, it's okay that things don't make sense. We just have to stop that next big move. That spell we heard about, if Hunter's wrong and it really was a spell and not a trap. You can bet she'll be trying it again."

He crawled out from the drawer he was cleaning and moved to the next. "That's not enough. How do you stop the spell, Bree? Do you know?"

"Point taken."

"The only other hint we have is that Father knew you were being targeted. He never mentioned you in particular, but he meant one of you. Hunter or Brook or you. He knew the Underworld was going to close, and he knew they were after you…"

"Do you think he knew Gaea's next move would be here?"

"I'm positive."

"Is it wrong of me to say that that's comforting?"

He considered for a moment. "No. And you have mentioned before that he's been manipulating us into this position, well knowing we can get out of it and save the world. And I wouldn't put that past him. I mean, my existence was secret until everyone knew both Zeus and Poseidon had broken their oaths over children and that Percy was nearing sixteen, and then I was unleashed in hopes that I'd be the one to save the world and fulfill the prophecy and finally gain equality for his children. Or take over, if he was in a bad mood when the time came."

I hesitated. "…So you're saying that… He's done the same thing here? Part of the reason he did or didn't prepare us, and put so much faith in us, was so that we could play hero?"

"I don't think he had a choice this time, Bree. Nobody else would defend the Underworld, anyway. I'm not sure if I should label it a stroke of good or bad luck for him."

"I thought you didn't believe in luck."

"I don't. I believe in irony. I was merely debating if this was one of its good mood swings, or the bad. 'Luck' just fit the empty word hole there." He shrugged, which resulted in him slamming his head onto the top of the drawer. He flinched and cursed.

Stifling a chuckle, I said, "Well, I guess that works, too."

He sighed heavily and pulled out of the drawer. "If only she just wanted you dead."

"If only." Together, we strode out of the room and found ourselves once more at that strange doorway at the end of the corridor. Sure enough, _Training _was written in bold print in the center.

"We gonna clean in there today?" I inquired, thoughts still occupied with Gaea's schemes. It had not slipped my mind that his three days were up.

Nor that I had yet to make a decision.

_You really ought to learn from mistakes. Staying silent helps no one._

_What if she wants me because I'm the only official demigod... er, thing... rejected by Olympus who knows?_ Though I couldn't put my finger on exactly why that would be, it was a possibility.

I decided he could have one more day. The ghost hunt tonight. Even if he gave me no proof it'd help them, if I could only be shown that he was trustworthy to that point...

"Yes," he said, fiddling with the knob. It made the dull thumping sound of a lock rusted in place. "We can't let whatever's in here go any more than the rest of it. Though I'm not sure... What..."

"Back up," I sighed.

"I wouldn't try using shadow magic without knowing what might be behind the door. It could react. You have no idea how many things down here are enchanted-"

"Psh. Magic. It's just a door." I balanced my arms, bent with fists, on either side in front of me and spread my feet. Even Nico could recognize Hunter's 'ninja pose' and scrambled back quickly. I let my gaze close in around my target. Just the right place, the sweet spot, like the artery in one's thigh that could bleed them completely dry. With a triumphant yell (because of _course _a door is a great and dangerous enemy) I brought my foot down against it. Hard.

The door made a noise hybrid to a screech and a crash and swung open on its hinges, broken lock pieces clattering to the floor.

"Your sister teach you that?" he asked, staring at the dark orange pieces.

"We both kinda tweeked it until it worked. You'll find the right place to hit if you're mad enough." Without hesitating for him or the door to stop rattling, I strode forward into the dark room.

I was greeted by a gentle breeze. A frown adorned my face. Wind? Underground?

Then light burst into existence to my right. A green flame glimmering like a jewel atop its torch. A flickering pool of light danced beneath it on the floor, on the wall. And so the one behind it lit. And the one behind that. And the next. And the next.

And the next.

On and on they went. Some revealed boxes. Wooden crates stacked hap-hazardly upon one another, looking like looming creatures in the dusk. Then the line of torches turned with a gentle curve in the wall. And off they continued down the new one, lighting more crates, more stacks of stuff. A few chairs piled beyond them. And then, so far back I had to squint to see, cloth dummies stuffed with straw. _Huge _dummies. There was a giant hellhound and some sort of sea creature and even a scorpion. Five human-looking ones cowered beneath them in fear.

The back wall held fewer torches. Nothing was along it.

And then the green fire shot back up the wall on the left. More boxes burst into existence. Closer to us, green light shone brightly off polished black marble statues. Cerberus, my father, Persephone in a dress made to suit her.

The torch directly to my left lit and showed us nothing, quite a dull conclusion to it all.

Nico stepped up beside me and gawked. "What..."

Light exploded above us as a catwalk at least twenty feet above burst into green flames. The light threw itself against stalactites and the gaping roof of the dark cave, through the dust and empty air beneath, a gaping monster's maw ready to swallow everything. The center of the cave, though ringed by such strange things, was utterly empty.

I stared, breathless. You don't think about petty things such as breathing when a monster's mouth is so close.

Only this time, I was in awe.

Nico's gaze gravitated from the ragged black teeth and landed on the statues. A breathless murmur ran past his lips in Greek.

Energy just radiated from the torches, like they were their own little suns. My gaze landed on one; an elegant stand crafted of bone and its dazzling green flame strong as that of gold in Hunter's eyes. A familiar too-sweet frangrance lifted into the air.

My excitement just burst.

"Look at this!" I yelled, and bolted forward. Oh, the cavern was so huge, and it felt great to stretch my legs in a full-out sprint across its bumpy floor. The wind buffeted my face as I went. That sweet scent was filling the room from the torches and creating a nice, even backdrop to the place. Not the most pleasant scent but far from the worst. My steps echoed and bounced around off walls, artifacts, the flaming catwalk-like structure. "Did you know this was here?!"

"No," Nico called from where he was next to the entrance, still studying the statues. "Though I'm not surprised. This is a war base, after all."

My cells had turned to fire. So much energy was radiating from this place, it was unbelievable. It felt like I'd just dared to touch Hunter's favorite ice cream - an improvision of chocolate, chocolate chips, cookie dough, and drowned in chocolate syrup.

Oh, and usually eaten with chocolate milk.

"We should put these up around the house," Nico mused, now standing next to the statues. "They'd do a great deal of help as far as protection goes."

"Hm?" I asked, turning. He waved me over. The closer I got to those statues, the more ice cream I'd apparently eaten. Energy was just laced throughout this gaping place. "What about the statues?"

He reached forward and touched Cerberus on the middle nose. "This marble, here - it's infused with ashes. It's an old way to 'bury' the dead that some people will still do today. But this marble was made into a statue rather than a wall at the graveyard, and since the statues are of Underworld deities, it multiplies their power. Power we can use and shouldn't run out, unless the dead are brought back and Hades has fallen."

"So... They're statues made of dead people?"

"Ashes of dead and creamated people, yes. Not a bad practice if you ask me." With that, he turned from them and leapt upon the nearest pile of crates. "And I bet there are some nice things in these, too. The last time this was used, it was during World War II."

That killed the mood fast. "Oh." I watched him fight through a rising cloud of dust and tear at the box's lid. Around us, I swear, the air was still humming. Intuneric was vibrating in my pocket.

With a sharp _crack, _Nico finally managed to pull the lid off. Exposed nails glimmered in the dim torchlight. "Here we go. Let's go through a couple of these now and get the statues set up. We can explore more after we're done with our task tonight."

"Hm," I said, half-listening, debating whether or not I wanted to pet the Cerberus statue as well. Three snarling dog heads glared at me with blank eyes and bared teeth. His tail was a snake that wound its way up into the air and stared down at me from even higher than those fangs.

"Oh, thank the gods. There's a ton of nectar here," Nico muttered before finding another random box from a new pile. "So were you still planning on comming tonight?"

"I thought so. Why?"

"Just making sure. Stay close, alright? It's really, really stupid to go back to that appartment, but an oath over the Styx was made, and we ought to fulfill it. Fates be willing, they'll be off conducting that spell they tried last night. As horrible as that wish is."

"If they need me more than the spell, they might still show up," I mused.

"Yeah, there's always that possibility. So don't wander off, alright? No splitting up tonight. Keep the iPod in your pocket so we can listen for the music."

"We'll just be in and out of the apartment," I said, deciding to join his box-hunt. "We're just grabbing the body and moving it somewhere it'll be found. ...Right?"

He grabbed his sword and made a clean slice through the wood and peeked inside it like a child does to his gifts on Christmas. "No. We'll probably have to talk and soothe the spirit again."

Oh, here it comes. "Cool," I said, waiting for him to go on.

"You'll have to sit out for that part."

Yep. There it was.

"I mean," he went on, "mental interactions are hard to master. You could drive yourself nuts or hurt the spirit. The stakes are higher when you're right there with the ghost. And I just don't have the time to teach you anything. So I think it'll be best to learn if you observe. Connecting to the spirit should be easier than it was to connect to Shane. Just make sure to keep your thoughts in check and fairly separated from his. Let me do the talking."

Oh. Or not.

"Wait... You mean I'm allowed to listen? Er, see? Ach - you know what I mean. But I'm allowed to do it?"

He sighed heavily and sat back, pushing the box away. Dark eyes met mine reluctantly. "It's no secret I've been Father's tool, is it? That I taught you exactly what he wanted you to know and let him shape you three into his pawns?"

He flinched back in advance, waiting for my answer.

"Dude, we knew from day one. It was obvious."

He relaxed visibly. "Alright. So no, you're not allowed. But that doesn't mean you're not going to. For one, Father was doing a bad job. He was too scared to see the gameboard clearly. Two, we are in a state of emergency, after all. I can show you what I want and it's not a bad thing for you to learn. Rules are kinda flying out the window right now." Something flickered in his eyes, a fish's scales glinting from beneath the water's surface, words he would not show me.

"You're hiding something," I accused.

"So there's even more reason for me to not even let you come. But you don't need to know it. You were right; I'm done playing games. With Father, with you, and with myself. It's very tiring on the mind."

And then the strangest thing happened.

Maybe it was this wonderful place. This stronghold. Maybe it was a good day's sleep. Maybe his leg wasn't hurting him as much as before. Maybe he'd meant what he said deep enough to breach his normal protocol.

Whatever the reason, his lips curled like a shy cat's tail; crooked and the smallest movement ever. Just a twitch. A hint of a smile.

And not the Chesshire one.

The peace offering halted me right there. My churning thoughts vanished; all the questions, the possible accusations, the lingering awe of the cave. All gone.

The idea that he was genuinely trying replaced all that.

This was the kid that I'd seen the day he revealed Gaea, the one from the snowball fight, the one who'd shown me Shane. The one who was, apparently, sick of playing games.

I must've been as crazy as he was, but I smiled back.

"Games are kind of childish. And this isn't a child's world," I agreed. My fingers curled around a ghost's fingers and the memory of a gun.

The rest of our crate samples went by quickly. There was ambrosia, nectar, even some assorted Stygian iron weapons. Emotion had been wiped from Nico's face once more but despite that I could see the revel in his eyes with each blessing. We talked; we went back to Gaea's plot and how I'm involved and how the spirit should be able to reach the Underworld just fine despite the lockdown she'd spurred. We talked about the stronghold and where to put the statues and where to put them and how much safer we'd be here. This place would be a real base to retreat to. "There are more," Nico said, "over to th left of Hecate and Thanatos. I'm thinking if we spread them and Cerberus about and keep Hades and Persephone down here so we have a failsafe shelter if something goes wrong."

Talking business with him was nice and familiar. Though a small part of me wished he'd talk about himself again. The stories. The games he'd apparently played with himself. 'Sis'. Even about what we'd do tonight - maybe spark some wonder in his eyes. I was sick of business.

But Nico just doesn't open up like that. And I would hold a gruding respect for him.

_Is it smart to wish to know the crazy kid, anyway?_ An image of him at the Battle of Manhattan popped up. A memory of the whispers on Mount Othrys, of a demon-child.

But then the image of our snowball fight and his triumphant face after a duel he'd won and us sharing popcorn over _Where the Red Fern Grows_ and his temper over my skirt and his awkwardness over dinner and his love for his magic and his anger at technology and his face after ending a cinnamon roll and his words of wisdom on Olympus and his impersonation of Demeter and her opinion on cereal.

Another smile graced my face. _I already know part of him. And no, it's not a bad thing._

I was even kinda fond of his crazy moments.

Before I could gather the courage to bring it up again - hey, here was my best shot, lost in this wonderful place and the happy shock of its existence - he found another crate with interesting contents. "Oh, lookie here. Looks like Ethan wasn't the first one."

The name rubbed sand paper up my skin. "What?"

He waved me over and held the crate out, eyes carefully guarded. I dared myself a peek.

It was a pile of guns.

"What...?"

"Look at the bullets stacked to the side. They're Celestial bronze."

"Demigods," I realized. At last it dawned on me. "...Oh. World War II. Experimental weapons."

Because a gun kills so much faster than a sword. Though it was strange to me; not even the Hephaestus and Vulcan kids on Mount Othrys used guns, and they were made to work with technology. Ethan's idea and success had been such a rarity. Something about guns and demigods didn't mix.

A bad feeling settled in my stomach. "Nico, I think some of the stuff down here is, like, trash. Or radioactive waste. We haven't opened anything else from that pile yet. It could be this place's trash bin. I... I wouldn't..."

"Let's fire them!" he declared, thrusting a hand in the air.

I sighed and hung my head. Forget my superstitions; Nico was not the kid to be handling a gun anyway. In fact, none of us were. "No. No guns."

"Yes, guns. Imagine if they work, Bree. We wouldn't have to be so paranoid while questing with spirits." Light danced in his eyes that gave me the familiar feeling he wasn't telling me everything.

Of course, his eagerness was what his words hid. His own wish to fire them for no reason at all.

But Nico just doesn't open up like that.

Before I could stop him, he'd grabbed one weapon and one bullet. I sighed and conviscated the box and the rest of its contents while he fiddled with loading his missile.

"Do you even know how to work one?" I asked.

"I've seen cops do it," he said, trying to slide the bullet into the barrel.

"Oh, well. No guns after all. Let's just put it back and go put the statues up."

"Ah-ha!" he yelped, and I heard a telltale click. "Got it! Back up. I'll aim for the cat walk up there, so the bullet'll burn, 'kay?"

I sighed but hid behind the crate, anyway. "I shouldn't let you do this. I should remind you that you hate technology. And that more kids accidentally kill themselves with guns than get killed by _other _people with guns."

"I know exactly how many people have ever died of both," he chided, "and that guns have been around for centuries. They don't count as technology."

I opened my mouth to tell him that guns could fire dozens of bullets a second now, but he had already aimed and squeezed the trigger.

_**BANG!**_

The single funeral bell's toll was so much louder than it had been the last time, making me cringe. A burst of light from the gun overpowered the torches and drenched the cave in an eerie white glow. Nico was knocked backwards and crashed onto the rocky floor, sprawled out. The gun clattered to the ground next to him.

A shocking silence followed as the green light took over once more.

For one horrible moment, I was afraid I'd have to use the equipment in the rest of the basement. Stupid idiot. I'd told him not to...

Nico muttered something and sat up, rubbing his temple. "Great gods of Olympus. What was that?" Scorch marks lined the right shoulder on his jacket.

Relief filled me. Then anger. So I groaned. "Aaw. I was hoping you'd stay down."

He ignored me and, amazing me further, grabbed the gun again. "How did that work..?"

I sighed and jogged over before ripping the gun from his hands. "How about we not do that again? You might manage to get yourself in the face next time."

The gun was taken from my hands once more as he examined it. "Yeah, I know. But why didn't it work?"

"I don't know!" I sighed, exasperated. "This is why I don't mess with guns! Give it here!"

He did, reluctantly. And that's when I saw it.

"_Nico! _The barrel's been sealed off! It was rigged to explode, Kobalos-brain!" I smacked him over the head with it. "You idiot!"

"It is?" he asked, looking at the tip of the barrel again.

"Yes! You didn't see that when you tried to put the bullet in?"

"I thought... I mean, why would someone do that if it'd harm the shooter...?"

I sighed and turned it over. "Yep. Look at this. There's a hole in the back of the barrel. It's made to fire the gun backwards and/or explode it. They've been tampered with since they were acutally used in war, I'd guess. I'm no gun collector, but I can tell you that much."

Don't ask me what crazy idea crossed his mind right then, but his gaze locked on the crate and the widest Cheshire smile yet scarred his face. A dark, bloody light danced in his midnight irises.

"Nope, we're done here," I said, stepping between him and the weapons. "How about we go... Oh, look, there's where your bullet went."

It worked. The smile vanished and he turned, staring at the blank and empty back wall. A great big burn mark now sat at its center and glared at us like an angry eye. Only a magic-enhanced bullet could leave that kind of mark.

Of course, being the ADHD children that we were, we ran off to touch it.

His facination with the guns was infinite. He ran a hand over the scorch mark and rubbed the ashes off his hands. "Geez. I'd be impressed if I hadn't seen Ethan's gun work."

"Uh-huh. You could've taken this through your forehead. You better believe in luck now," I muttered, running my hand beneath the mark he'd left. Something sharp threw itself into my palm. I cursed and examined it.

A tiny little stick was emerging from my hand, glaring up accusingly.

"What is it?" Nico asked when he saw my face.

"I... got a wooden splinter? From a rock wall?"

He took my hand in his and, gently, plucked the offending piece from my palm. Then he turned and ran his own along the wall.

I sighed. He never learned, did he? Why did he turn into a little kid at all the wrong moments?

Then he gasped. The ash fell off the wall as he beat it. Something rattled angrily.

Without question, I knelt next to him and helped him clear the dust away. Dark, camoflauge wooden doors emerged from its hiding place before us.

They were unlocked.

"This place just gets better and better," I muttered, not enitrely sure I wanted to see whatever was hidden behind that. Another weapon, maybe? Surely not another room - it was only four feet by four feet.

Nico opened the doors and, of course, stuck his head in. He did not speak.

"What is it?" I asked.

Slowly, he backed out, and shut the doors. Then he blinked and opened them just to be sure. Nothing was behind them but dark, empty space.

"Hel-lo," I said, waving my hand before his face. "Care to explain?"

He was too shocked to tell. He just lifted his hand and pointed, helplessly, at the open doors.

I reached a tentative hand inside. Hard rock lined the same dimensions as the door. A long tunnel, aimed downward.

A new idea blossomed like rose among bitter weeds.

"We've been sitting on top of it. All this time. I knew he wouldn't just shut us out," Nico whispered.

I swallowed thickly. "So, is it...?"

"Yeah. It's a passage to the Underworld. And it's open."

oOo

**Nyx: I got bad news. Once again, I am lacking access to my computer. So I'm back to using a new writing program that doesn't like the accent on Intuneric and must put the cover on haitus. AGAIN. :/**

**Nic: This is bad karma. I told you not to eat all those Altoids.**

**Nyx: Oh, and I also gave up on that one-shot. Comedy does not like me. It involved Octavian yelling at the Seven for losing Percy and Annabeth and how they can't be trusted and war should go on, yada yada yada, and Nico just kinda sittin there like, "I wish you'd fallen instead, jerkwad..." Wasn't that great.**

**Nic: Oh, the number of people who would agree with the idiot there. Heck, most people would probably trip Octavian. :D**

**Nyx: Anyway, that's our news for today. Please review and tell us how we're doing. This wasn't my best chapter, I know, so help me make it better. Oh, and feel free to yell at us over cliffhangers. As our buddy emoxkitten knows, we like to throw them in often at the end of a book.**

**Nic: :D**

**Nyx: Until Thursday!**

**Nic: :D**

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**Nic: :D MWAHAHA!**


	32. Castling

**DISCLAIMER: Yes. We own PJatO and HoO.**

**Naw, just kidding. Rick Riordan does.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**emoxkitten: Nyx - Thnx. And be prepared. There r a lot of them coming up. :3**

oOo

We ran into someone in our rush back up the basement stairs.

I heard Nico yelp a moment before a silver streak barreled into him, knocking him into the air and then slamming into me. There was no room to dodge it here in this narrow stairwell and she was too fast to duck beneath. The air vanished from my lungs and I was airborne, flailing, clinging to useless silver fur-

"Umph," came the involuntary sound as I landed. My head cracked against the floor so hard, I saw black stars dance across the ceiling. The heavy silver burden on my chest shifted and poked. That didn't really help much.

"Moon," I groaned. "Get off..."

She yelped and used my stomach as a launching pad, flying off down the hall. "Sorry-ing! Sorry-ing!"

I rubbed the back of my head and rolled to my hands and knees, grimacing. Nico was lying on the stairs but seemed to be fine; the new brace had saved his injured leg. Moon, still down the hall, let loose a flurry of panicked barks. "Dead?! Dead?!"

"_Yes!" _Nico snapped, glaring at her.

She threw back her head and gave a mournful howl.

"He's kidding, Moon!" I yelled above the noise, clamping my hands over my ears.

She quit howling and pressed her ears to her head. "Kidding not! Mistress news-having! News of big!"

"Is that why you decided to kill us?" Nico muttered darkly. "If you wish, I could return the favor."

She ignored him and thundered past once more, shooting up the stairs. More wild barks echoed back down to us.

I sighed and got to my feet. "Come on. Hopefully it's good news. Brook does tend to be much more cheerful than the rest of us."

When we got up there, though, we were welcomed by grim faces.

Nico opened his mouth to speak, but Hunter waved him off. "No. Don't speak. First, just watch." She nodded towards the television.

On it was a muddled, grey, static-enhanced image. The DVD player beneath the television was glowing all over with blue lights.

"I sent Night to recover the video of our fight in the alley the other night from the warehouse's security cameras," Brook explained, patting said wolf as she spoke. "This is what we found."

Hunter clicked the button the remote. The grey dust bunnies on the screen began to move and shift.

"There we are," she said as we appeared in the ally.

"Mortal cameras can record mythological events?" I asked as our replicas argued.

"Demigods invented cameras," Nico sighed. "So yes, they can record events like that. But it's the human mind that can't comprehend what it sees."

On screen, Dr. Thorn burst from the door. A great flash of white fuzz went off as the stone absorbed our ambush blows.

"There!" Brook cried, pointing.

Nico and I stared at her, not sure what she meant.

"Watch the corner back there, where none of us were hiding. I'm not sure if it's when Dr. Thorn first came out or when he used the stone, but just watch."

This time, we saw it.

Nico paled visibly. "That's..."

"Creepy," Hunter finished.

That was not what Nico'd been about to say.

Brook paused the video and let us look for a moment. "I'm not really sure if it's male or female. Nor what it's wearing. But it definitely appears human."

_Appears _being the key word, apparently. The shadowed silhouette stood out like a sore thumb because of the clearly defined head, rising above two simple shoulders. It was hard to make out on the crappy tape and didn't appear totally solid. No details served to depict the face or clothes or even its feet.

Unless you knew what you were looking at.

It wasn't just fuzzy dark static. It was dirt.

Dirt and rocks, twisted against one another to craft the figure. When the video was played, you could see them swirling and actually moving. Weaving like complex currents. Mixing like the dry ingredients when Granny cooked sweets. I could even see the eyelids clamped shut, the gentle grass eyelashes.

Gaea.

Hunter and Brook only saw a dark, fuzzy shape. They didn't know to look for dirt and rocks like that.

"And then, when Bree destroys the stone and the earth stopped fighting us..." Brook went on, playing the video. "...The stone flashes again... And when it clears... Right there. It's gone."

Nico and I didn't dare speak.

"It seems to me," Hunter said, "that this is the 'Dreamer' the prophecy spoke of. _'While in fate's shadows, the dreamer waits.' _It's in the shadows, and it's happily waiting. Doesn't really do anything. But it watches and spies, which I'm not too pleased with."

Gaea. The Dreamer. She was, after all, asleep...

"I told you to disregard the prophecy," Nico managed.

"Hey, it's been right about things so far. The first line; _Forgotten horrors best left untouched._ Old monsters and demons that are wild, out of control, and can't stay dead."

"You don't know that's what the prophecy is referencing," Nico sighed. "It could mean somethign else entirely. Or that and another thing. I'm telling you, they're never straightforward. They all but lie."

She ignored him. "The last line; _To death are heroes damned by day. _The Daylight Disaster. Both that and The Patron are making their moves here in LA. They have to be related somehow, and especially if the prophecy says so."

Nico grit his teeth and looked away. "I'm telling you. Don't take it too seriously. Percy's prophecy? Did you ever hear that?"

Silence.

"_A half-bood of the eldest three gods,_

_Shall reach sixteen against all odds,_

_And see the world in endless sleep,_

_The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap._

_A single choice shall end his days;_

_Olympus to preserve or raze."_

"Luke," Hunter whispered.

"You say that now. Before that happened, it sounded like the half-blood of the eldes three gods - Percy - would be the one having his soul reaped and making some big important choice. Now we know he was nothing but the time marker. I guess he also had a hand in choice-making that day; it depends on how you look at it, because neither Luke or Percy could've saved Olympus if the other wasn't willing. And the cursed blade was Kronos's scythe. Or Riptide, which has a really horrible past." He ended with a stern glare on Hunter.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. They're hard to interpret, and maybe we should stop applying our crap to it. But they come true, don't they?"

"The prophecy given by the Oracle of Delphi did. And I haven't even begun to mention the Olympians' reaction to it. That prophecy helped to start the very war it foretold. Oaths were made, oaths were broken, lives were lost..." He trailed off and shook his head. "My point; you _can't _listen to them. At all. They start stupid mind games. Humans manage just fine without being told their future, and so will we."

Hunter sighed. "Fine. It's a valid piont. But I'm still inclined to believe it holds answers, especially the missing line. You believe what you will, alright? But don't try to shove it down my throat as well."

Nico looked ready to say more but clamped his mouth shut and glared. Hunter's hand twitched toward her scythe.

"So, Nico! Why don't you tell them what we found in the basement?" I asked loudly before they could go at it.

He glanced at me, then at Hunter again. The news came out flat. "A tunnel to the Underworld. It's open."

Hunter froze while Brook yelled "WHAT?!" and Moon started barking and spinning in circles. Behind her, Night and Fern threw back their heads to howl.

"Nice going," I told him.

"Forgive me, but I don't believe it in beating around the bush. It prevents clarity and getting to the point in the first place, which is just stupid."

"Well, I think you've made it pretty clear, huh?"

"You found a way in?" Hunter demanded, cutting us all off. "Where?"

"Down in the basement," I explained. "There's a room labeled 'training'. It's like this huge stronghold cave thing with supplies and magic guardian statues and in the back, a retreat tunnel into the Underworld. The doors open easily and you can crawl right in."

"It's been there? This whole time?" Brook stammered, utterly shocked. "We've been walking around on top if it?"

"Yep," Nico said.

Hunter let out a long breath. "Okay. That's actually pretty interesting. Are we gonna check it out?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Do hellhounds have teeth?"

"Right. You're the only one who can, though, because we're still banned. You're going alone?"

"Right now," he agreed. "My bag is upstairs. I can grab it and head off. I should be back in, maybe, several hours."

"That's it?" I asked, a little taken aback. How long was he planning on staying?

"If it's locked at the bottom? The climb usually lasts about two hours in its own time, but magical corridors often have their own clocks; it'll be either longer or shorter to you guys up here. If it's open, I'll come back tomorrow." He wove around the couch and started up the stairs. "Oh, and don't go talk to that ghost without me! It's not safe."

The ghost. Crap.

"Nico, wait," I said. Too softly. He kept going.

"Slow down, Ghost Boy," Hunter sighed. Nico hesitated.

I sighed. "You made an oath over the Styx to the spirit. We have to go and move the body tonight."

His hand tightened on the railing and two intense eyes widened. "Bree, we can't just let-"

"Later, Nico. If we shadow travel, we'll probably have to take a couple hours' rest, too. It'd be a great thing to try during the day when we couldn't do anything else, anyway."

"It's the only tunnel we've found open! What if he left it that way for _us?! _He needs us down there-"

"Nico. We don't have a choice. And there's a chance it'll be closed, anyway." It was hard to stare him in the eyes, but I did, demanding he listen. He had to hear me. That look he had... It edged on crazy. Truly, off-the-rocker crazy. It was eteched in every tense muscle, every twitch, every mindless movement. What he'd been searching for was just too close...

...I didn't think he should go off alone like that. Even if it was to a safe place. Not when he couldn't even think clearly.

Because an oath over the Styx is not something you want to break, either.

Or maybe I just dreaded losing my night of training.

_Or losing your night with him,_ an annoying voice in the back of my head said. I told it to shut up.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "No. It'll be open. It has to be. It's the most promise we've seen since this whole mess started. I can't just..."

But his shoulders slumped and he rubbed his forehead angrily. I could see I'd won him over.

"Fine," he said curtly. "An oath is an oath, and I don't do debts. But let's hurry."

He turned and finished tromping up the stairs.

Hunter sighed. "Well, that's that, I guess. Anyway. Brook and the pack and I were planning on doing some scouting. Looking for hints of this 'spell' that may or may not have been real last night. I have time powers and we'll have the pack to watch our backs. It should be safe."

"I'll tell him," I said. "Be careful."

"You, too. And hurry back. Before he completely loses his marbles, preferably."

I smiled at the familiar attitude. But it was different. In her eyes, there was doubt. The words were too soft.

Because of her father, she was even scared to sharpen her words.

My smile fell away. "Will do." And I hurried up the stairs after Nico.

I only had one thing to say to him as he finished packing, all jerky movements and angry mumbles. "I told you we should stop playing the optimists."

He slung his bag over his shoulders and gave me a sideways glare. "I'm not playing the optimist. I'm playing the desperate."

oOo

"They're leaving."

"I know."

"All of them."

"I know."

"And they're split. Into two groups."

"Now, quit playing this game with me. Everyone knows that cats can hear just fine."

"Everyone also knows that demigods are clueless little idiots who taste delicious. Remind me again why we aren't hunting them down as our orders detailed?" Dr. Thorn growled, baring his fangs.

The half-blood sighed and looked up at the night sky. The sun had set not even minutes ago. Perhaps the stars wouldn't be out, anyway, even if the city were non-existant. The thought saddened him. He very much liked the stars. They were his only true company. He had guards, he had Dr. Thorn, but he did not have company.

Irony. He didn't believe in that. Or luck. Or chance. Only the cruel, laughing, sadistic Fates. The words were merely human names to the divine's favorite tools. Nothing more. It wasn't even really a concept. Just sloppy, guessed-at nametags to what looked like patterns and ideas.

In reality, it was nothing in particular. It just was.

Dr. Thorn, getting no answer to his question, snorted and flicked his tail. A sharp missile shot past the half-blood's nose and empaled itself into a tree.

The demigod did not flinch.

His mind had tried everything. Stars. The white stick-like tool in his right hand. Singing. But there was no escaping exactly what The Patron didn't want him to escape from; himself.

Screams didn't just echo in his ears. They took over. They were more real than the city ahead or the demon to his left or the hidden stars above or the grass poking at his trousers or the cool and easy breeze. Lost, horrid, tortured screams. Her voice so twisted that even he could hardly recognize it.

Her torturer's demands.

Her begs to make it stop.

He let out a shaky breath and shook his head. Death was meant to be an end. It was supposed to be over.

But Gaea said that it wasn't. So it wasn't.

"She's done you a favor," Dr. Thorn said in a monotone, all too familiar with the look on the man's face. "You know that."

A favor. Hah.

"Blessings come in disguise. Even puny little humans can understand that much. She's just giving you a little push. But tell me; doesn't it feel nice to breathe again? Doesn't it feel nice to have a second chance? You can make it better this time. You are, after all, mortal." There it was. A shark's grin crossed the monster's face. "Puny little mortals that have no choice but to pack everything they can into a variable, unknown number of years. Weeks. Days, even. You failed so horribly the first time, didn't you?"

The half-blood turned away. He didn't want to listen to this. Knew he shouldn't.

But her screams were in his ears. It was listen to that or listen to a demon's slick, treacherous words.

The worst part was that he was starting to wonder if the monstrous cat was right.

Maybe, after those screams stopped...

The cat smiled and sat down, knowing his work was done. The idea had been planted. Demigods ought to know better than to trust a demon, to trust the words, let the words change you. But it was just too easy sometimes.

That stupid trio of Fates once more.

"It wasn't my fault last time. _I _didn't screw up," the half-blood muttered bitterly.

Because he hadn't. It'd been the Fates to screw him over. It wasn't his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault.

The mere idea that it could have been nearly killed him right then and there.

So he repeated it to himself over and over. It wasn't exactly what the demon had said. It wasn't pinning the unbearable on him. And if he did decide he wanted that second chance...

"Not my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault."

Behind his back, Dr. Thorn's grin grew wider still. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

oOo

Nico sighed heavily. "Okay. So we can kill hours walking around and dragging a dead body the way a human would. Or we can do it fast like demigods and then kill hours sleeping off the shadow travel."

I glanced behind us at the house, which sat silent and stoic. Brook and Hunter had already strode down the street. The structure showed no sign of its newfound hollowness. Nor of the statues it now held - Cerberus behind the door, Hecate upstairs, and Thanatos with his glimmering black feathers before the basement door. It was as practiced and controlled as Nico's face.

He was more in control now. He had his clever, more rational thinking back.

"I'm thinking shadow travel," I said. "It'd be kinda awkward to explain why we're hauling the thing around."

"I suppose having some sleep right before traveling to the Underworld wouldn't be a bad idea, either," he agreed. "Shadow travel it is."

Two moments later, we were in the abandoned hotel room.

I could immediately feel it. Something cold scraping up my spine, a haunting presence worming its way into me. I swallowed the nausea and tried to clamp my mind shut. It didn't work that well.

My teeth shoved themselves against one another. "Nico..."

"I can sense it. He's hiding in the vase again. Back up; we're too close. It's hurting him."

Happy to put distance between the ghost and I, I stumbled until my back hit the wall. My eyes closed in hopes that the lack of light would ease the pounding in my head.

Nico calmly stepped backwards until he stood beside me. Something flickered in his eyes that I could not name. "Easy. Anybody can contact a ghost if they try hard enough. Getting them to talk back is the hard part. Just open your mind a bit. He can't control what you're feeling now; open to it, say something to him, and perhaps you can coax out a rational thought. Once you're connected I'll come in and do the rest. Take it one step at a time."

I closed my eyes again and tried. I knew the spirit was there. The vase glowed as it had before, light peeking through the cracks and woven in with the delicate material itself. It was there. Desperate to find it and get this over with, I stopped distracting myself from what I felt.

It's hard to describe. It goes so much deeper than bodily pains. An ache I couldn't fix, somewhere hidden from my eyes and even from the shadows, the last scraps of any retreat I could dare hope for. Should I fall asleep, I'd still feel it. It'd leak into my dreams and tear my mind apart from the inside out.

How was I supposed to make sense of _this?!_

"Don't go looking for him. Don't force anything," Nico said. His voice was farther off than it'd been before. "Talk to him, and then let him answer."

"How do I talk?" I rasped.

"If you honestly want to say something to him, and he's close enough to hear it, it'll work. Just try."

Honestly speak. Honestly want to say something. What did I want to say the most?

I opened my eyes, searching that same place where the pain started for what the answer was. To my mild surprise, I found I'd fallen to my knees, bent over and was tearing at the fallen curtains with clenched hands. The pain rolled by in waves. Relentless, uncaring. Unstoppable.

And what words found themselves at my lips?

"Pardon me, but don't tell me your name. I don't want to know."

Because I didn't. I'd seen enough to remember him by. Should I ever wish to know his name, hey, all the more reminders.

Humans have long been fascinated by what lies just out of their reach. And someone had told me I ought to keep a few things fascinating.

Before I could think further, a sharp, almost painful spike of curiosity shoved itself into my mind. _That's not what I was expecting._

A smile crossed my face. I could feel him now, the moving silver ocean. It sparkled and shone with crimson blood. The color of passion and pain and warnings. The color of the numbers on my stupid alarm clock. "Well, I had to find some form of greeting. I'm normally not big on pleasantries. And I had to make sure you wouldn't share your name, anyway."

There was quiet observation and a little appreciation as he saw my reflections on his color. _...Red?_

"Red. It's a pretty color. But I've always been afraid to label something so intense and bipolar as my favorite."

"_Bipolar. What a word for it." _A new voice stole our attention. It was plain and simple and, to me, spoke from absolutely nowhere.

Then I realized it'd come from him. From the ghost. It was not his, but I'd heard it through his mind. To him, it came from a blazing fire, one that burned. Much like my own. But this fire did not flicker and part and reveal images or feelings. Nor thoughts yet - so far, it only showed us English. That strange code for things and concepts.

Every other thing was hidden.

Timid curiosity came from the ghost again. The Ghost King had been more open last time. Why not now?

Now thoughts came from him. Calm thoughts unhindered by the bulky shapes of words. A general, easy acceptance of the third voice. Of mine.

He was introducing us.

Accusation. It burst from the spirit in a blind, blazing red fury. We should not be here. We'd made a promise. And the red, the pain, it still burned. What was he supposed to do?! He heard his family calling. They had hope! They thought he was still somewhere for them to find... Couldn't stop poking and proding with sticky thoughts... Couldn't just forget... Even if he had found his way, his family wouldn't ever let go until they knew for sure...

Immediately, a calm, controlled memory slipped from Nico. A dark one draped in his relaxed tone of reflection. The Manticore, lunging at us on the roof. A notion of our presence here now. And then the pain, the same pain I'd felt. So deep I couldn't reach it.

I frowned. No way Nico could just stand there and take it like that. Yet the memory was clean, and it was his.

A small stream of regret trickled from him. But solid resolve followed. Regret liked to syphon more than it was worth, and things were fixable. No harm done. The pain would end soon enough.

The spirit didn't relax at all. But he stoped his wild cries.

Inquiry came from Nico now. It tasted sweet. Did the ghost remember?

Eagerness. The ghost remembered. A warm meadow and warmer arms, a white smile. A little hand in hers.

And just like that, the pain all but disappeared.

It was still there. The ghost was still red. But the waves calmed and I no longer felt like I was a fish being cleaned for dinner.

Nico decided to speak English once more. "There you go. I wish you well in the place you're heading to. We will not meet again."

That fact did not bother or excite the spirit. It merely echoed his words back, a play-by-play, a memory of English half infected with its memory. A smile crossed my face as I recognized that - the spirit was now distracted.

I said goodbye as well and pulled my mind back, donig my best to forget the red-and-silver sea. I severed the cord connecting us and stayed where I was, bent over on the floor, sorting through my thoughts and the new sensations. Touch. It was so weird. And forget sound. Unnatural, fake senses given to one by a body.

Nico offered me his hand. "Come on. We ought to hurry up and finish this."

oOo

**Nyx: Yaaaay I liked this one. Got a little choppy at the end, but other than that, I'm pretty happy.**

**Nic: There's a new one.**

**Nyx: Anybody seen SoM yet? I'm gonna go see it Friday so shush! No spoilers!**

**Nic: *evil smile***

**Nyx: NO! You already ruined Mocking Jay for me!**

**Nic: *doesn't care***

**Nyx: :/ Anyway, all reviews are appreciated! Please do leave a comment! And we do have a poll up. It is favorite PJatO/HoO characters. The last time we put it up we only had one vote, so it wasn't that conclusive. Feel free to check it out on our profile.**

**Nic: At the top, there. Little bitty bar beneath the ad.**

**Nyx: Oh and I'll have my computer back on Saturday afternoon. Yay! So I'll be able to work on the cover and put the accent on the I in Intuneric!**

**Nic: ... OCD much?**

**Nyx: It's CDO. The same thing. Only the letters are in alphabetical order like they should be.**


	33. White

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO.**

oOo

Her luck had run out. The Fates were teasing her now.

There she was, the Daughter of Time, walking free along LA's elegant nighttime streets, illuminated by the great candles that the buildings were, just out of reach. She didn't even have the two Underworld freaks with her. Just Brook, whom the girl had learned wasn't Artemis but instead her daughter.

Thing was, though, that they weren't too friendly.

Her first attempt had nearly gotten her killed. She'd seen the wolf at Brook's side flick its tail in warning and then Hunter whirled around, scythe raised, and sent a golden whip of light shooting her way. She had held her ground with gritted teeth and tightly closed eyes.

She wasn't in their line of view. She was downwind. The dog must've heard her.

Only later did she see the rest of the pack, a hidden fanged escort, skulking along in the shadows a good ten meters back and ahead. They traveled through allys and along the shadows and sometimes revealing themselves trotting along the ditches in the road. When they had to be seen, they kept their heads down and dragged their tails and panted. It looked almost as if they were just a few more stray dogs.

But she knew different now.

One of them must've found her and tipped off the lead wolf, or maybe even Brook herself. And Hunter had reacted.

She'd have to reach them without reaching the wolves first.

She hadn't wanted to travel by air, but that was her only choice. She chose a bistro that wasn't the shortest building but not the tallest, hidden but not inescapable, and silently raced up the fire escape to the roof. From there, she traveled from building to building. It frightened her. But nothing had happened yet so she figured tonight, nothing would.

The city rushed around her like water currents, its beat like regular waves, the gentle background noise of each little score with each little pebble. It made her long for home. The beach wasn't far off from here, but she knew she couldn't hide there now.

Because she was up in the air. The currents belonged to the wind and the wind to Zeus. And she had a mission to complete.

The second attempt had not gone much better. She figured that if she called out, they would hesitate. Brook wouldn't fire and Hunter wouldn't blast her to bits. It'd give her the time she needed to do what she had to do; it wouldn't take too long. But no sooner had she drawn her breath, a warning volley of arrows came soaring out of the city's concrete reef. They missed entirely, but she got the message; they knew something was up here, and they weren't going to give her the time she so desperately needed.

So close but yet so far. It actually felt painful, a tight twist in her chest. This is what she got for daring to hope.

But she wouldn't give up.

Careful now, she followed but didn't approach, still leaping along the rooftops. Now and then she'd cut and take back allys to avoid jumps that were just too far, or too high up. She was always careful to avoid the wolves, though. Several times she had to wait and let them get far enough ahead and cross the street behind them to stay downwind. What a complicated game.

When it seemed too hard, she'd take a long chug from her water bottle to keep her mind clear, and keep going. _Stay on your toes. That's been enough all your life, and it'll be enough now. Oh, look at that flag - the wind changed again._

Now, though, they were turning. Heading away from the city's bright center. Back to the base, probably. Which meant her time was running out.

But it also meant passing that same street they had the first day, with the dirty and run-down apartments. She knew of a few empty buildings there. The old post office would be ideal - right there on the corner, where they would walk along it on two sides. One glance to confirm that was their course, and she dove for the ally, tracing her shortcut to the old mail center.

She beamed when she found it easily. This might not be her home, but they were the visiting team here. She knew this streets like nobody's business.

The abandoned post office was in poor condition. But despite the strewn once-crucial papers and the shattered lights and overturned desks and the dark grey gloom that made one so jumpy they could confuse the wall for an alien, she liked it. It didn't seem all that sad to her. A once lively place now a dead and still corpse. But like a sunken ship, it was at peace now. No alien or ghost would show up. No human ever again. This place even had an air of gratitude; it was pleased with its life's work and pleased that it now could rest. It welcomed her through the cracked window on the back wall with a satisfied creak.

She smiled at it. "Ssh. Don't let us be caught, now."

Quietly, she picked her way across the littered floor and crouched by its windows on the far right, and settled down to wait.

It wasn't long. First she heard the wolf outside, panting and dragging its feet in its stray-dog disguise. And then she heard...

...Talking.

"Stay close," the Daughter of Time said. "We're almost there."

Brook spoke next as they came level with the post office's wall. The girl, pressed up against the wall beneath the wide windows, crept along it with them. She could hear every word crystal-clear. "I know, I know," Brook was sighing heavily.

Hunter sighed and made a shuffling sound with her feet. "You wanna play a game?"

"Ooh!" Brook yelped, clapping her hands. "Let's play slaps!"

The girl snickered. She knew that game.

"...Slaps?" Hunter asked, skeptical.

"Yeah! Where we smack each other on the back of the hand and see who chickens out first!" A malicious tone possessed the young girl as she said that. The girl hiding along the wall swore she could imagine Brook with a shark's grin.

Hunter took a moment too long to reply. "How about one that doesn't require bodily harm?"

"Chicken," Brook snickered. The girl knew by her tone that this would normally result in plenty of bodily harm and a very interesting game of slaps.

But the Daughter of Time just sighed. "Yeah. Chicken. If you want to call it that."

An awkward silence followed. The two girls turned and walked down the next wall to the post office. The hiding girl followed.

Did she dare try it again? She wanted to so badly. If she could just hold them off... For a moment...

But she was scared to try. She was loathe to use magic for fear of leading them to attack for sure, and anyway, there wasn't any reserve of water nearby. Oh, she could find one. or make one. But on top of it magic would take energy and she wasn't the best at controlling herself. She might actually attack them first, and that wouldn't work at all.

While she thought, Brook and Hunter had taken to playful jesting. Some new game. "Scenario; you're trapped between eight Laistrygonians and a volcano. What do you do?"

Brook sighed. "Um... I'd... run along the rim of the volcano?"

"They're guarding the sides, too. And yes, the volcano is active. There is lava down there."

"Turn into a bird of prey and fly off on the rising heat?"

"Have you killed a bird of prey before?"

"...No..."

"Then that's not an option for you. Nor are your wolves. Pretend they're captured or something. Just you," Hunter urged.

They went on. The girl in hiding wrinkled her nose. Wherever they were going, it smelled nasty. Like, _really _nasty. So bad she suspected there was a demon somewhere.

Why hadn't the wolves noticed it?

She drew her daggers and looked around carefully. The post office didn't look so at peace anymore.

Outside, the lead wolf began hacking. A high-pitched voice screeched, "Ich!"

"It's not a monster," Hunter whispered. "Don't worry. The wolves ahead would've told us if it was."

"Stinks still," the high voice pouted.

On they went. The back wall of the post office was coming up. Her exit window was looking pretty inviting. Maybe if she managed to slip out quietly, she could get in front of Hunter and Brook-

-And get a dozen arrows in her throat. No, that wouldn't work. On second thought, would it be worth it, using magic to shield her from their first attack. She could yell and stall them from behind a protective wall...

"Demon not," the strained voice said. "No for days."

"Then ignore it. It's probably some chemical or dead pet in one of the buildings," Hunter said. "Let's bust this joint before something decides it's hungry. Come on."

They reached the wall. The girl was biting her tongue, straining so hard not to gag. She waited until the girls and their wolves had passed before sliding out her exit window.

This one, on the other side of the post office, was much closer to the source of the smell. The girl covered her nose in her thick shirt and kept going, sliding into the nearest ally that ran parallel to the road.

Still, the rotten stench thickened. She choked and couldn't help it; she coughed. Thank the gods, though, that the girls either didn't hear or no longer cared.

With a quick glance, she saw the tail of a wolf disappearing overhead. She bunched her shirt tighter and followed on light, quick feet. The farther she got from that horrible, penetrating smell, the better.

It was like a virus. It wormed its way into her mind and stayed there, boldly, not to be denied. It reeked of dark things. Of demons and sickness and screamed at her - get away, get away, get away...

...She turned the corner into a new ally, one that ran prependicular to the street and was wide open.

Too late.

Too late, she saw Brook and Hunter in the entrance. Too late, she named the smell. Too late, she heard the swarm of flies. Too late, she felt the blood soak into her boots.

But suddenly none of that mattered anymore.

Her world consisted of three things. The smell, for one; it reigned over all. It laughed and cackled at her. That smell that she could now name. It laughed and laughed and laughed, claws dug well into her mind, holding her there. There was a cold, shocked ball in her chest. And there was the source of both. The thing she could see.

Blood had been splattered all over the floor and the walls, sticky and drying and a strange brownish color. Strung like water after it'd splashed over the beach. It slid down the bricks and dripped onto concrete. Telltale stripes all leading to the one horrible conclusion.

How she wished she hadn't seen. But she had; she'd seen flesh too red to have been dead for long and innards torn to strips and shreds and the white bone poking out. A misshapen thing that might as well've been alive still and driven a knife into her. The throat was thin as the spine it showed and the perfect white stripes of the ribs were crushed and caved in. Splintered. Great rips from the claws of some horrible demon. Splattered in that ugly brown blood.

Too late, she whipped around and bolted back down her ally. Panic now. Away. Get away from the sight and the smell and the fact that she should've known. She should've run as soon as she smelled it. She should've...

Her foot jammed into something. She didn't care what it was. It sent her sprawling like a ragdoll across the concrete ground, but she couldn't feel the pain. She didn't try to catch herself. She crashed into the rock and lay there, shaking. She still saw it. It was still there. Had she not run already? She couldn't remember. It was there. That smell. She could still hear the flies...

She curled up and groaned, squeezing her head. _Make it stop. Great gods of Olympus, strike me down, kill me now if that makes you happy, but make it stop..._

Down the ally, she heard voices. Hunter. "Moon, sit. I SAID SIT! Stay. Don't look. Alright. Brook? I'm gonna walk to Moon. When I let you go, you can open your eyes, alright?"

The girl in the ally shuddered and dared to open her eyes. But all she saw was the concrete.

No mutilated body. Just the concrete.

Perhaps she should keep her eyes open.

"What is it?" she heard Brook ask softly.

"It's what it smells like," Hunter told her evenly. The fallen girl flinched. Didn't sugarcoat it, did she? "There. Open your eyes. Stay _right here, _you hear me?"

Stay. The girl in the ally could do that. She had lost all motivation to move, anyway.

Brook yelped. "Where are you going?!"

"I think I saw something run down that alley there. I'm gonna go check it out. You stay put no matter what, understood?"

Silence.

"Moon, watch her. I'll be back in a moment."

"What if it..."

"Does that to me? The dead guy is a human, Brook. I'm not. Stay here."

Footsteps rang like funeral bells off the walls.

That cold, hard feeling bloomed in her chest again. Footsteps. She had to get up. Had to move. Had to stay hidden. Always, always stay hidden, from every one and every thing...

...That was how she stayed alive...

Foolish, thinking she could do this. Hiding was the only thing to do.

Oh, but to move. No. She didn't want to hide anymore. Let them find her here. Let her die. It'd erase that horrible image.

But the cold, hard resolve stayed. She sighed heavily at it and, making sure to keep her eyes open, hauled herself to her feet. She'd kept her heart beating this long. No piont in giving in now. It just wasn't right.

_Curse my mind, _she thought as she slid into the post office again. _It's nothing but hell-bent on survival._

_And hope_, it feebly reminded her, but she wasn't listening.

Panting and bent over, still shaking, she waited. But the footsteps came closer. Hunter must've seen the open windows.

The girl turned and looked around, knowing she had to get out. But how? Without getting caught?...

There. The hole in the wall on the right, opposite the windows. She got down and scrambled through it before Hunter could get any closer. Hide. Where to hide. Did she still want to trail them? No, but if they knew something, she ought to hear...

Carefully, she crept past the windows on her hands and knees, the same way she had on the wall's other side earlier. Survive. Hide first, figure out the rest later. And she knew the perfect hiding spot.

She could hear Brook murmuring to Moon the wolf from where she was crouched. Instinct and years of street smarts held her in place as she listened. Brook spoke...

And then quieter, kept going. Her head was turned. No way to tell for the wolf. She'd just have to go for it.

On her belly, she slowly shimmied forward, not daring to raise a finger. The sickly city grass blended with her well in LA's dim, concealing shadows. She shuddered when she remembered what - and who - else those shadows were hiding.

With her head turned to the side, she could see both Brook and the dog looking in the other direction, towards the alley with the body where Hunter had disappeared. But she still moved achingly slow. Across the grass and into the ditch...

There, she lay still in the water, hair spread out to hide her dirty face. There. Now all she had to do was not move an inch, and she was positive they wouldn't be able to make her out even if they tried. Not if she was still, and certainly if they didn't expect to see her there.

The sounds of the city were dark now. Hidden undercurrents that could rip you away in a heartbeat.

Lying there, it came back to her. She'd have given anything to erase the memory but it was there. It took everything she had to keep from shaking.

"Anything?" Brook asked eventually.

Hunter sighed. "No. Did the wolves pick up anything?"

"No. The smell is too thick for them to distinguish a peanut from a deer." Another reason the girl had decided to stay close.

She put her faith in the camoflauge and didn't budge as Hunter's voice came closer. "Alright. Here, look through my bag for the tape. I'll look for the airhorn. When it goes off, I'll time-warp us out of here, okay? We'll run for the base. You and I can play a game there if you want."

"Slaps?" Brook asked eagerly.

Hunter swallowed thickly. "Um... No, I'm really not in the mood for that one. Scenario again, maybe. But we'll play, I promise."

There was silence for a while. Then the airhorn went off.

It was a sharp, piercing sound. It shrieked like a panicked cat. And it did not stop.

She sucked in a breath and lifted her head, squinting down the sidewalk. There, before the alley, was the airhorn. The button had been taped down to keep it ringing. At last she understood; someone would hear it and come to investigate. The body wouldn't go undiscovered for long.

For some reason, this made her smile. It just simply wasn't the horrible, sadistic act most people would expect of Kronos's daughter. It was... curteous.

Still smiling, she got to her feet and jogged down the street, not wanting to be there when the massacre was discovered.

oOo

"You sure someone'll find it here?" I asked, skeptical. The body of the ghost was now lying in the bushes of some park. "It looks kind of... hidden to me."

"People come through here every day. If nothing, someone'll smell it tomorrow. Come on. Let's get back to the base," Nico explained, heading for the darkest shadow nearby - the black pool behind an adjourning building.

I looked down at my hands curiously as I followed. "Aren't there, like, diseases we're gonna get now?"

"You and I? No. A human might, but not us." I swear, I could hear a smirk in his voice.

The encounter with the ghost had left me rather refreshed. Tired, but refreshed. My mind was in a daze. It drifted like dandelion seeds on a summer wind, from the cool waters of seeing my sisters again when we got back to the dark, haunting forests with Ethan's name scratched into every trunk. I never really registered either. Felt nothing. They just kinda floated by in that peaceful slumber.

"You look tired," Nico said as I caught up to him.

I smiled sleepily. "Hm. Maybe that's it. You?"

"I just want this to be over. I can't wait to go down that tunnel. If it's open..." he shook his head helplessly. "It won't be. But if it is. Gods, how grateful I'd be."

"If," I repeated, rolling the short word over in my mouth.

"How much have I talked these past few days?"

"Come to think of it, a lot, actually."

"Yep. I'm definitely stressed," he muttered. "Just let it end now. You sure I can't just head down the tunnel anyway?"

"Not a good idea. Lack of sleep increases stress, not the opposite," I warned. "Just chill. Let's shadow travel back, get a long sleep, and I'll be there to send you off in the morning."

He sighed heavily and disappeared into the shadows. I followed.

The dark, cool living room welcomed us. The house seemed just as stoic now that we were back. I stretched and groaned. "Ugh. This place is becoming familiar, huh?" So different from home, but familiar.

"Hm," Nico said. I looked at him, hopeful he'd talk about himself again, but of course he clamped shut. "I'm gonna go upstairs and sleep. You, too?"

"I was gonna crash on the couch until Hunter and Brook got back," I said.

"Suit yourself, Sis. Ach! Bree. Bree. I'm sorry." He stood there awkwardly for a moment before bolting for the stairs, staring at the floor.

"...Nico?" I called.

He hesitated at the top, silent but listening.

"Be careful tomorrow. Please."

"Nope. I planned on jumping into Tartarus."

I giggled and shook my head. "Right. With one of those stupid guns in hand. Oh, and one more thing..."

He stayed, waiting.

"You really do look nice in eyeliner."

He snorted, hiding what I knew were dozens of Nico-answers ranging from _I couldn't care less what I look like _to _Eyeliner is like sheep_, and disappeared into the hall.

I laughed and flopped down on the couch. It wasn't so bad, hanging with my half-brother...

...The next thing I was aware of happened to be Hunter shaking me awake.

"Hi-yah!" I yelled, jolting awake and lurching to my feet, Intuneric drawn and ready to go Jackie Chan on the threat.

She was outlined in the soft blue light that draped on everything like a blanket across this house. One pale finger raised to her lips. "Put that away. We're alone."

I sighed and sheathed my favorite eraser. "How'd it go? Find anything?"

She cast a nervous look behind her at Brook and the pack, who were drifting towards the kitchen in a daze. The glossy look in Brook's eyes sent alarms raging through my head. My hand clenched tightly, around the sword I had just put away.

"...We did," Hunter answered. "Nothing pleasant. And too close for my liking."

I grit my teeth. "Cut the suspense and tell me. I'll butcher it for you." As if Hunter would ever need me to butcher something for her.

She shook her head. "They're long gone by now. No monster. Just the mess it left behind. I think we found the Daylight Disaster's latest victim."

oOo

**Nyx: Hey so I got no time but two things real fast ONE I know 'alley' is spelled 'ally' in here a lot but I don't have time right now to fix it and this program won't correct and TWO please leave a review! There may be an extra chapter later today or early tomorrow. See y'all then!**


	34. Pawns

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan is just a pen name. The PJatO and HoO series belong to Nyx's cat.**

**Naw, just kidding. Mr. Riordan is real, and he does own those series. The cat just thinks he owns the whole world.**

**REIVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: Yeah most tests tell me I'm Hades, but I haven't done any Roman tests yet, so… *shrugs* Anywho, yay, I'm glad it's creeping you out. As cruel as that might sound, I'm glad. This chapter, though, I think is creepier. I found myself glancing over my shoulder as I was writing it. Enjoy.**

oOo

"I know a demon's mark when I see one. That wasn't anything human."

I stared at her from across the table, utterly speechless.

"Brook," was the first thing I managed, five minutes later.

Hunter shook her head. "No. I grabbed her and held her against me before she could see."

I let out a heavy breath. The idea of such a horrible thing alone set me on edge. The fact that it had almost done a number on Brook's mind was even worse.

Because I knew what that was like. Walking in on a body. Not quite that gruesome, but yet again, the one I'd walked in on had been a friend.

I had not been the same afterwards.

Remembering the infallible cold, I shivered and hugged my legs to my chest. "So you think it was the Daylight Disaster demon?"

"I'm positive. That definitely explains the Halloween cosplayer's description as 'a mess'. It..." For a moment, her eyes glazed over. She was seeing the dark shadows and stalking creatures behind a forest's glimmering trees. "...It does."

I looked over my shoulder at Brook, who had curled up with Moon and two other wolves against the Cerberus statue by the door. The three dog heads glared out at us coldly, uncaring, daring us to come closer.

For a moment, my mind wandered, grasping for the right way to fix the look in Hunter's eyes. An understatement, I decided. But tentative, each syllable delicately placed, to make it fit nicely and naturally; "So... Is that all?"

She snorted. "No. I saw something else in that alley. But I don't know what."

Ice ran up my spine. "What was it?"

"I could've sworn it looked human. It definitely stood on two legs. It was between our heights. But it was just a shadow. It moved and... vanished. I looked and the wolves scoured the place, and still we found zilch."

"It was there when you arrived?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

I looked down at my shoes. "Did the wolves scent a demon?"

"None. Not even beyond the reek of the... body. It's like there was never one there."

"So it teleports," I mused. "Or shadow travels."

But I'd lost her. She was staring at the table with wide, glassy eyes. A sharp and rusty nail jerked in my gut.

"I can stay up," I offered. "Until you fall asleep."

She smiled sheepishly. "Don't."

"I'm not going anywhere in the morning. I got the time."

She sighed and stood quietly, far too frightened to make noise. "If you want, I guess there's nothing stopping you." My sister disappeared into the living room without another word.

I got up to follow, glancing nervously at every light spot in the room. The shadows, in contrast, were cold and mellow. Placid, even. They waited patiently to see if I'd retreat into those dark recesses. But I shook myself and followed Hunter on quick, startled feet.

She had stretched out on the couch, not far from where Brook lay on the floor, and covered her face with a pillow. Her legs stuck out over the edge of the couch. One, bent, hung off and the resulting stray foot rested on the coffee table.

I sank into a chair and giggled. She reminded me of Ethan when she sat like that.

The smile vanished from my face.

Trying to ignore the rumbling clouds that rose in my chest, I turned. Man, how I wished there was someone, anyone to talk to. It was so rare that I wished that. But I did now.

My gaze landed on the white skull beneath the television.

"Hey, Phil," I greeted. "Nico's upstairs sleeping, but if you want to talk, I'll be here."

He stared at me silently.

I frowned and squinted at the skull, suspicion unfurling like a thorny bramble in my stomach. And then cold, shocking realization.

"Hunter."

"Hm?" she asked from beneath the pillow.

"Look at Phil. Just look at him."

I heard her shift and turned - she had lifted the pillow and gazed with one golden eye and an arched eyebrow at the little skull. "...What about him?"

"He's not glowing."

"...I should hope not..."

"Things haunted by ghosts glow. I can see them hiding inside. That skull is empty. It's just... a skull."

"Real interesting. I've seen enough skulls tonight, so if you don't mind, I'd like to go to sleep." The pillow slammed back down.

"No, you don't get it. If Phil isn't really there, who does Nico talk to?"

"I don't know. The kid's a psycho. I'm telling you, he's not screwed in right. He probably imagines Phil."

The idea disturbed me. I shifted nervously in my seat, still staring at that empty vessel. Utterly empty. Just a lonely skull. Hollow eyes stared back at me.

"You don't think... That, he like... knew Phil?"

"He might've. I don't know. Let me sleep," she muttered, and turned over sharply. The pesky pillow followed.

Unable to stand the skull's blank gaze any further, I looked at her. Curled up now, the last person she resembled was Ethan. He'd always slept sprawled out, limbs flung every which way like a haywire weed hacker, mouth hanging open and the softest snores coming from his throat. Once, upon a dare from Brook, I had lifted the eye patch to see the red scar tissue beneath as he dreamed.

Pained by the memory, I looked away from her, too. My right side burned like it'd been set on fire.

"Hey, Bree?" Hunter mumbled.

"Hm?"

"Thanks. For staying up."

All at once a familiar, warm, nectar-like feeling flooded through me. I half-expected it to spill out of my fingertips. How nice it was to know that Hunter needed me for _something._

But of course she did. Like I needed her.

"No problem. ...You're not still upset about your dad, are you?"

"Bree, what I saw tonight, he'd done to a million people. He held no respect for human or demigod life. Not you or Ethan or Brook. We were his pawns. Same way we're still pawns to whatever hunted down that poor man."

Thoroughly silenced, I sank into my chair. She sighed and, together, we waited through the night. Cerberus watched over us. Thank the gods that this house did not creak and groan as my home in Oswego did. Else I'd have been in for a long, painful existence.

At last, when Hunter's breaths evened and she no longer stirred, I smiled and let my gaze wander once more. Knowing eyes skimmed over Phil and the three-headed dog, edging for the window.

Strange, how the city's yellow light didn't even hit the blinds. A compulsive and sudden drive to discover why seized my body and my legs ran for the window. Maybe I'd even find some beauty in the city. At times like this, when you were grateful for every little thing you got. When you needed something to be grateful for. Maybe I'd learn to love the startling array of lights. They could never be the wildly splattered stars. But maybe, just maybe those standardized fireflies and structured buildings would reveal something new to me...

I searched them, hoping they would. _Athena, guardian of Athens, show me the light in the city. Show me something. Anything. I know you and I aren't on great terms, but if there's anything you can do that'll save my mind right now, I swear I won't ever scorn at school again._

_Please._

No sooner had the prayer left my lips did I see it.

The drakon.

I froze, utterly froze, not a single cell able to move. You don't when you see something like that. Somehow, its gaze reached over the buildings and through the air and burst through the glass to hold me.

There it was. That python-shaped head, poking out between two buildings like nobody's business. I saw naught but the silhouette, but it was enough. I wasn't going to mistake that head ever again. It was the winged drakon.

And it was looking this way.

The long and thin neck looked so grotesquely distorted to me. The head so devastating. _Oh, my gods. It's here. It's here. It's here..._

I panicked. I turned to scream, to yell at Hunter to wake and get Nico to come rushing downstairs with Mνήμη drawn and that Cheshire grin. I had seen him in true battle only briefly, and of what I'd seen, he was deadly. Brook could shoot an apple from hundreds of feet away. Moon, that crazy wolf, I wouldn't have believed her fighting or leadership skills if I hadn't seen them... If I could get us down here, we could try, and at the least die together...

But no sooner had I turned did instinct take over. It wrenched me back into position like I was nothing but a ragdoll. It screamed in my ears and ran like electricity through every molecule of my body. _DON'T LOOK AWAY DON'T LOOK AWAY __**DON'T LOOK AWAY!**_

I turned, wide-eyed and scared. But just as my instincts had warned, the demon had vanished.

oOo

I slept in a room with no windows that night.

As loathe as I was to leave my sisters, I couldn't stand that room. The empty skull and deadly windows and horrible memories were too strong. I ran up to my bedroom, laid my violin against the headboard for good luck, and covered myself to the chin in the blankets. And I'd stared. At every dark shadow, scared out of my mind that something'd jump out at me.

It was a long night.

There were many things I would agree on with Nico. Tonight, his belief in irony was not one of them.

This was just torture.

Nightmares haunted me. First came the usual. The stuff even a human could dream of, in my position; that cold metallic laugh and hard, merciless golden eyes. The crack of his scythe against Brook. Ethan's final screams. Yes, he had screamed that day as he fell. From pain, from fear, from sheer thrill, I didn't know. Didn't care. It was a hair-raising sound. I heard the sharp retort of the gun again. I saw Nico drop it and lay sprawled out across the floor. This time, he didn't get up. Another dream came back to me, too; it'd been of him as a raven. When I'd first had it, during the Battle of Manhattan, I hadn't understood. I couldn't see him. But I knew where I was and I knew it was my elusive raven. He'd screamed and howled and writhed in agony that night. I still didn't know why...

...Last, I saw the drakon. That horrible green eye that told of blood and a long, ancient past.

Then the real fun started.

I saw a ruined mansion. Bricks scattered in snow like a child's knocked-over toys. They lay there like the fallen bodies from a horrible battle. Limp and utterly, utterly still. Never to rise again. It had once been so proud of its sacrifice. Old magic radiated like rays from the sun.

Then I saw wolves.

They were not Brook's wolves. They were mangy, flea-bitten, thin, red-eyed, foamy-mouth things that twitched and crawled over the ruins like flies on a dead body. Like a disease. Horrible snarls and yelps cracked through the air. Whips, they were.

Things began to flicker. I saw snow. Snow and bricks and more demonic hounds. Their sick howling, that awful song I knew I'd never get out of my head. More bricks. A pit and a large black pillar. A cage. A horrifying six-armed creature dripping with mud and heaving boulders. A castle made of ice.

Last, another wolf. This one was easier on the eyes. Tall and proud and with gleaming fur. Proud black eyes stared into the distance.

Then the eyes turned to me. They were no longer so proud. Desperation bloomed in them like blood in water. And a desperate animal will do anything.

Scratches appeared in its pelt. And then, to my utter horror, I heard the voice again. The creaky, dry, broken thing that'd given me Gaea's prophecy before. The horrid scrape of bone on bone and the whistle of wind through trees long dead. It felt like acid on my skin and in my ears. I screamed bloody murder.

But I couldn't drown it out.

"_Child of light - lightning, beware the earth..."_

Stop it. I'm not a child of lightning. I tried to speak, so desperately. That voice was spreading poison through my blood. I could feel myself crumbling to ashes.

As the voice spoke, the wolf began to bleed. Flesh and fur melted off its bones.

"_The giant's revenge - birth - the seven shall..."_

No. No, no, no, no... I didn't want to see the predator's skeleton...

"_Death unleash... Through rage, death unleashed..."_

No. It was too much like the last one. And that poor wolf. The bones collapsed, too, leaving nothing but a steaming, horrible pool at my feet...

...Hadn't Nico seen me as a wolf in his dreams several times...?

But I breathed a sigh of relief over the mess. The voice had stopped talking. I could survive, so long it didn't haunt me again.

"_I'm still here."_

I screamed and whirled to find only blackness. Nobody was there. But still the voice whispered. It crawled beneath my skin and tickled my brain. Oh, gods, it hurt...

"_Do me a favor," _it whispered. "_One favor."_

"Go to hell," I rasped, all but collapsed on top of the wolf's mess.

"_I am already there. But you... You are helpless. You know this somewhere. You do realize that you can't kill a goddess? That you can kill yourself now or let her capture you? Die at your own hand or let her torture us all further? Do you have any idea what your existence is doing to all of us? You selfish little brat!"_

"Get away from me!"

"_As you wish. Next time, don't expect my help."_

I watched in horror as another demonic wolf stepped forward, boldly planting its paws in the body of the fallen red one. Its crimson eyes locked onto mine. Saliva dripped from its crooked, yellow teeth-

-And I woke in a cold sweat, shoving my hand into my mouth to keep from screaming. The covers had been twisted around me painfully. I blinked, confused, until I saw my violin above - I had fallen off the bed overnight.

Slowly, I sat up, jumping at every new thing I saw. It was all a threat. The drakon could emerge from any wall, demon wolves from every last shadow, a voice and horrible demons from my own damn mind...

I was shaking. Shivering. And hot. It was way too hot in here. Too crowded. Too many things were there for demons to hide behind. For me to surprise myself with. I swear, every last object hid a splatter of blood, every breath of mine masking the scrape of claws on tombstone, every heartbeat pounding the last few seconds away. The air was infected with something that burned on my skin.

Somewhere, from outside, from down the hall, I swear I could hear that raspy voice echoing...

... I had to get out of here...

The shadows scared me that night. They hid red candles and snapping teeth and the screams of the tortured dying. But somehow I made it to the street okay.

Oh, gods. The wind helped. The shadows were still there but PRAISE THE GODS there were streetlights! There was background noise. Yes, it could hide a potential enemy, but currently it just said there would be witnesses. Cloudy-eyed humans, but witnesses.

I looked up at the sky. The stars were still hidden from me. But it was definitely nighttime. Dawn had not come yet.

I had time for a little stroll.

Stretching my legs felt nice. I could burn the thoughts away if I jogged. The wind hit my face and I didn't have to stay in one place for too long. Oh, I still shook. I still jumped at every cat that crossed my path.

But I had space to move and cool air to breathe. I'd be okay out here.

As the demon-wolves haunted my mind, I kept going. Pushing through my thoughts. Wherever my feet took me.

...That voice, behind me...

I ran faster.

What could it have meant? I saw now why Nico didn't like prophecies. This one made no sense. There was only one Child of Zeus, and that was Thalia, who had so many of Artemis's followers behind her. She was better off than we were. And why would she matter to me?

And the seven. _The giants' revenge, the seven shall birth._ Or, at least, I assumed that's what the voice had meant. The words felt like needles stuck in my throat.

It couldn't be the seven Nico mentioned from the Great Prophecy, could it?

And why had it spoken so much clearer than before when it was urging me to kill myself?

As if I needed more stupid omens. As if I needed more to mull over. Oh, and there was still the problem of Phil and Nico's strange conversations with someone who was long gone. And the few, and potentially more hidden, memories embedded in Întuneric. Olympus had vanished. Gaea was planning something big. And to top it off, who did she want the most? Who did she strive to capture?

Me.

It wasn't until then that I realized what I'd done. Running out here on my own like I wanted to be kidnapped. Not the smartest move.

But the idea of going back injected ice into my bones. No. I couldn't just yet. Tonight, that house held nothing but horrors.

In a desperate effort to drown my thoughts, I put in one ear bud. One ear for comfort, one alert to keep my sorry butt alive. Like that, with demon wolves and an infernal voice on my heels, I ran through LA's stolid night streets.

At one point, I closed my eyes, reveling in the wind it caused. My heart still raced faster than my pounding feet. But I was moving and though the dream haunted me, though it surfaced through the song at times, I was alright. I could survive this. I was out of that room. All I had to do was beware the dark alleys. Stick to light streets. I'd be okay.

_Save me, I'm lost…_

_Oh Lord, I've been waiting for you…_

_I'll pay any cost, just save me from being confused…_

But one thing never faded, whispering through the words of Carolina Liar's _Show Me What I'm Looking For._ That raspy, virus-like voice.

_Do you have any idea what your existence is doing to all of us?_

I know that Gaea needed me. But what on earth for? She hadn't the last time. And surely, I couldn't just end it. I didn't have that kind of power…

…Did I?

_You selfish little brat!_

I shook my head. No. No, I wasn't about to go down that road. I'd be a selfish little brat, but I'd be a live one. Gods know whatever risk my life was to the world, but right then, I didn't care. The world could put up with me. I knew the kind of pain Ethan had bared over his father's suicide. I was not about to admit – through pride or denial or sheer stupidity – that it was a way out of this mess. For anyone.

Besides, who'd watch after Hunter?

I pretended that after I'd settled it in my mind, the voice still didn't repeat the message to me. It did, but I lied to myself and said it didn't. I'd just lie and lie and lie until it became the truth. What else was I to do right then?

Trying desperately to find something else to think of, I opened my eyes. And immediately cursed. Somehow, I'd found my way to a street without light. It was utterly dark here. Utterly hostile.

One glance at a nearby alley sent my mind reeling. I ripped my eyes away and tried to calm my breathing. I could do this… I could do this…

Behind me, something growled.

My heart skipped a beat. On I ran, pretending I hadn't heard. The shadows twitched as I passed them.

Three…

Growl.

Two… One…

With a yell, I whirled and fired, dancing to one side as I did to avoid any surprise strike. An angry hiss exploded next to me and a great, menacing shadow shot by overhead.

I turned to face it again and yelped, barely dodging the lightning that splashed across the sidewalk at my feet.

The Ventus laughed a mad cackle and lunged again, sporting a maniac grin and lightning-infused claws. It got Întuneric through its middle.

But it must have expected me. It kept coming.

I yelped and shadow traveled around it, letting my magic echo my own growl. The giant winged demon turned, glowing from the inside with electricity, and the static in the air set my hair on end-

-And a golden javelin lodged itself solidly in its chest.

The Ventus gaped down at it for a moment. Then it just seemed to blow away in the wind, nothing but black smoke and sad little static flickers.

The javelin clattered loudly to the concrete.

I turned, wide-eyed and breathless, to stare into the alley behind me. Surely that's where it'd come from. After all, the demon couldn't have seen the attacker, and it hadn't been me…

Footsteps. They echoed in the darkness. I spread my feet and raised my sword. The shadows around me twitched and growled.

Out of the gloom, eyes guarded but calm and soft, hands held up in surrender…

…Came a teenage boy.

He couldn't have been older than sixteen, but he sure was taller than that. Short blonde hair gleamed in the little light that managed to bless this shadowy street. Electric blue eyes sparked and reminded me that the static had not faded from the air. He was dressed in armor unlike that we'd worn at Mount Othrys or what Camp Half-Blood demigods donned; to top it off, he lacked a helmet, and wore this ridiculous purple cape thing. Badges adorned his shoulders like proud metal soldiers in a perfect line. As he came into the light I saw some sort of mark on his left forearm, too, but couldn't make out the details…

He smiled at me. "That's a big knife you got there."

"I know," I spat, leveling it to his throat. He stopped short. "Who are you?"

The boy remained utterly, frustratingly calm, even with Stygian iron at his jugular. "Easy, now. I'm not here to hurt you."

"I asked your _name."_

"Alright, alright. My name is Jason Grace. Pleased to meet you."

oOo

**Nic: HA-HA! CLIFFY!**

**Nyx: *smiles* Tee-hee. I warned y'all. And I reread this chapter a couple times to look for mistakes. So it shouldn't have typos, or at least not as many as usual. Yay!**

**Nic: Alright, we have some review prompts for you guys. I know it's kind of rude to ask about a certain subject, but it hasn't shown up yet and we need to know what you think so far. Here, there are three; One, who is the girl running around LA? The one called 'she' all the time? Two, who is the half-blood with the Manticore? And three, whatever the heck else you have to say. About Jason, about Phil, seriously anything. Bucket of virtual cookies to those who answer all three prompts!**

**Nyx: Nom. Cookies.**

**Nic: Oh and has anyone seen Sea of Monsters yet? I planned to, but…**

**Nyx: *begins banging head on table***

**Nic: …That…**

**Nyx: Oh, the things that cannot be unseen…**

**Nic: *pats Nyx's head* so yeah apparently there are some problems with it. I got some very violent texts about lighting torches and attacking Hollywood with screwdrivers.**

**Nyx: *reaches for glass of sweet tea***

**Nic: *sighs* Altoids, sweet tea. I'm smart enough to only steal the former. Assuming we're still sane (or at least no less sane) tomorrow, we'll see you guys in the morning.**

**Nyx: *swallows tea* Bye, guys! We're welcoming anyone who wants to join in on that Hollywood raid, by the way! Feel free to bring your own tools!**


	35. All Roads

**DISCLAIMER: Well, despite my cat's protests, Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO. And no, my cat does not own RR, either, no matter what he says.**

oOo

My mouth ran dry faster than a snowball would melt in Tartarus. Now, it wasn't a name I had memorized, but it rang bells in my mind. _Jason Grace…_

To cover my hesitation, I stepped closer with Întuneric.

He held his hands higher. "Whoa! Easy, there! I'm not aiming to hurt you!"

"Funny, but I'm not inclined to believe that of a stranger," I spat, and took another step forward. This time, he stumbled back with me. That name… It balanced on the tip of my memory, teetering like it hung on a cliff, either about to be saved or lost into oblivion forever…

"Hey, if you're not going to put the big knife down, I'm gonna step out of its way. Don't freak," he said, and, very slowly, shuffled to his left.

I growled. Întuneric followed him.

"If I wanted you dead or injured," he said coolly – gods, how that infuriated me, him so at ease with my loyal sword in his face – with eyes locked on mine, "I'd have left you to the demon."

"And if you wanted me alive and well?" I growled.

A smirk crossed his pretty-boy face. "Put the knife down and I'll show you."

I had no doubt that I could take this idiot in a fight, but nothing's ever as it seems. So rather than sheathing Întuneric I merely lowered it to my side. "It's not," I snapped, "a knife. It's a sword."

"Alright, a sword. Whatever you say." He turned from me – seriously! His back to an armed hostile! – and knelt down to pick up his golden javelin. "You must be pretty freaked out right now, huh?"

I didn't answer but watched, not sure if my dream or this over-confident idiot was more of a threat. He lifted the javelin like it weight nothing and tossed it high into the air. It flipped and spun, glittering in the low light, before shrinking and seeming to vanish.

In his hand, he caught a small denarii coin.

At that moment, his name clicked. _Jason Grace, First Praetor of the Twelfth Legion, of the Fifth Cohort._

I had lost count of how many times Kronos recited this to me.

Before me was not only a Roman demigod, but their leader. Sixteen years of age, born the same day as Percy Jackson, a Son of Jupiter, the other half of the Great Prophecy that'd concluded on August 18th that year. Just my luck to run into him.

Jason held his hand out to me. "Anyway. Now that the weapons are gone. Jason Grace. What's your name?"

"…Bree…" I said, still shocked. He shook my limp hand. My mind was racing a mile a minute – what could he possibly want with me?! Did he know I was part Greek? Gods, if I didn't watch my mouth, I could start a civil war-

"Well, Bree. Could I ask what you're doing out here so late? This city is more dangerous than it looks." He smiled down at me. The grin was miles and miles from his eyes, though.

"Walking," I replied dryly, hoping hostility would send him away. My heart was pounding. I knew, I knew very well that I shouldn't be speaking to him. My very existence defied every law he'd probably been taught. Broke oaths and treaties. Could wage war across the country and possibly destroy the world. "What are _you _doing?"

"Funny story," he said, waving me to follow him and walking down the street. I cast one more glance at the hostile shadows, recalling the wolves from my demented dreams, and started after him. "See, I'm actually out here looking for you."

A knot jerked in my stomach. "…You are?"

"Yep. Kids like you. That the demons tend to favor. See, I don't know exactly where you've been or what you've seen, but the thing is that you're not alone. There's lots of us. Demon-killers. There's a lot more to it than that, too, but this isn't a safe place to talk."

Oh, he didn't know the half of it.

"We're gonna go meet up with the others," Jason kept rambling as we walked, not even glancing over his shoulder. As if I'd asked for more information. "Don't worry; you'll be safe with us. And when we get to Camp Jupiter, we can explain in full. But for right now, let's just settle for the fact that not all myths are… _myths."_

I let out a long breath, suddenly relieved. He didn't know who I was. He just thought I was another young demigod.

Then I realized that that probably wasn't good, either.

"…Where did you want us to go?" I asked tentatively.

"Camp Jupiter, to the Twelfth Legion. Every half-blood pays a decade of service," he said, at last casting a blue gaze at me.

Oh, crud. My Greek blood, on sacred Roman ground. I dug my heels into the concrete real fast. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I don't need to go to no camp."

He turned to give me a stern look. "Listen, kid. This isn't the place to put up a fight. We're in danger here. If you'll just follow me, and listen to what I say, we can get out of here alive. I swear, I'll answer the questions later, but for right now we have to-"

"Have to what? Get out of Underworld territory? Because I'm kind of at home right here, flyboy."

He froze in his tracks, and nothing but that weird purple cape moved in the wind. "…What?"

"You heard me," I growled, shoving past him. "Go on your merry way without me. And yeah, it might be a good idea to get out of this town. Really bad things have been happening lately."

"You… You knew… So you just let me ramble on?"

"Humility is never a bad thing," I said as I left him behind.

Footsteps rang out as he raced to catch up. "Wait! You said this was 'at home' for you. So… So you're Pluto's child?"

Oops.

I grit my teeth and kept marching. "So what?"

"And you called me 'flyboy'. You know my dad's Jupiter."

"That I do," I muttered. "You _are _kind of the guy who toppled Mount Othrys."

"You know of Camp. So why haven't you ever shown up there before? Surely Lupa sent for you?" he asked in a firm tone. One that suggested it was an order to answer.

"Well, Lucca didn't," I muttered. How to lose him? How to send him off? How to avoid him dragging me with him? Half-occupied by the demonic wolves of my dream and half-focused on the task at hand, I didn't really see where I was going.

"It's _Lupa,"_ he corrected sharply. With a swish of purple cape, he appeared before me with angry sparks in his eyes. "And if you've known who you were all this time, why didn't you come on your own, anyway? If you make it to Camp alive, you've passed the test, and your decade of service to the Twelfth Legion and New Rome starts."

I stopped and glared up at him. "Maybe Children of Pluto aren't so welcome on Camp Jupiter. Maybe I train better here, out of your hair, and where you're out of mine."

"But you owe ten years-"

At last, I had an idea. And it wasn't necessarily a lie. "Jason, it was your dad who banned me from Camp. Let's leave it at that and part ways, alright?" I looked up at him and tried desperately to clam my voice. It worked about as well as calming a panicked hellhound would. With a heavy sigh, I started over. "Look, there's a reason I haven't been to Camp, and there's a reason I can't join you now. But I never meant any harm."

"Yeah, well, Jupiter's been silenced, as well as the other Olympians, so my word is unmatched by any other, and I'm giving you permission," he said flatly. "Do you really think that I'd take manners into my own hands, have a quest sent out looking for soldiers, if you weren't desperately needed?"

"I'm sure I'm needed. But I'll do the best work I can here."

"Bree, the Wolf House has been taken over. Lupa has vanished. The Olympians have just dropped off the face of the earth. In a time of crisis like this, I have a right to call my soldiers to arms."

Somewhere inside me, dry stalks of kindling began to smoke. "Jason," I said coolly. "Get out of my way."

"I don't take orders from you."

"Then we understand each other," I growled. "Look, if you must know, I'm not here on vacation. I'm here investigating the same thing you want my service for. The Underworld has been shut out, too, but if we can crack into it, then we might just find out where the Olympians went. So don't lecture me about service. I'm doing what I can."

He frowned. "'We'? Are there others?"

Styx. He couldn't find out about the Greeks here. "No. Any other demigod in this city would have been killed by now. I'm telling you, Mr. Boss Praetor, this isn't just the Underworld's domain anymore. Something is stirring in this city that is best left unspoken of. As you said, it's not safe to talk here." His frowned deepened at that. "Listen to me. Consider my work here a quest. Leave me to it."

He stepped forward immediately. "If there's something going on here, we can help."

The words stopped me for a moment. I saw the Manticore and the tortured ghosts and the magic stones and the drakon's head among LA's buildings, heard Hunter whisper of the mess the Daylight Disaster made, the demon wolves haunting my dreams and that horrid, dry, bone-on-bone voice…

The kindling burst into flames. I would _not,_ for any reason, watch another demigod get killed because of this mess here. This mess that I apparently caused, according to that awful voice.

Nor would I let it all crumble because of some stupid rift between Greek and Roman cultures.

"Oh, really? Tell me. How many entrances are there to the Underworld, Jason? How do you open them? What are the four kinds of spirits? Where is Charon's ferry? Do you _honestly _think you could offer a shred of help to me?! ONE more demigod in this city is going to set the monsters running wild! Mark my words, if you stay, you will cause a bloodbath. You may be above me in rank but I swear that you don't have a choice but to follow _my _orders this time. Get the _hell _out of this city before you regret showing up."

He stared at me in shock, eyes locked on mine. Something intelligent and calculating flickered in their sky-blue depths.

I sighed and let myself sink to my feet again, not realizing until then that I'd risen to my toes. "Look, Jason. I know you're desperate. But you won't find help here. And this city is dangerous. I'm protected because I can find strength in the Underworld and every graveyard I cross." And a secret base. "You and your friends will die if you're not out of here by sunrise."

I was shaking now. But the fury had left me; only anxiety flooded me now. It rushed through me like a river in monsoon season. _Please. Please leave before you come across my family or get yourselves eaten because of whatever wrath Gaea and I have brought to this place._

I wanted it so badly, Întuneric started to slip from my fingers.

At last, his gaze softened. A bleak and dark understanding lit in them.

I sighed and shook my head. Of course there was reason somewhere in him. Jason didn't seem to be _all _authority to me.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive."

"Give me one reason to trust you, and I'll meet with my patrol and go."

I had to ponder that for a moment, turning it over in my head. One reason. One reason to save the First Praetor's life, as well as whoever else he had scouting LA that night.

But I had lied to him. I'd served Kronos once. Heck, I was even part Greek, part enemy he couldn't even name. What reason did he have? But there had to be one. Just one…

"I thought not," he said coldly.

"Bind me by the Styx," I burst. "Do it. Right now."

His eyes narrowed. "Alright. Swear on the Styx that you weren't lying when you said you were exiled."

"I swear by the River itself." Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled.

"Swear that you're honestly trying to find a way into the Underworld and into Olympus, and that it is indeed too dangerous for me or my friends to spend even twelve more hours here."

"I swear it by the Styx."

Thunder rolled again. He stared at me as if expecting something, but nothing happened.

"I also swear by the River Styx that I'll find a way to contact you if we find a way in," I added. The skies growled once more and lay utterly still behind the screening of lights and clouds.

Still he stared.

I snorted and shook my head. "Whatever. I'll also find some way to tell the Legion how you died come morning, if that's what you prefer. But if you know what's good for you, you wouldn't let that happen." Without another word, I turned and strode for the nearest alley, fighting my jumping nerves with very step.

As soon as my foot touched utter darkness, I slid into Shadow Form and waited for ten minutes.

When I emerged again, he was gone.

oOo

_Now, what the hell could that have been?_

Some people believe that every event in life serves a purpose. I don't believe that. Rather, you should _make _a purpose for every event.

I just wasn't sure how to do that for my encounter with Jason.

Something in the back of my mind was screaming at me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was there. Something big. Something huge.

But while following Jason and then striding ahead of him, I had managed to get myself lost. These lonely roads sported no streetlights and were filled with deceptive corners and alleys and twists. False trails and odd, bump-in-the-night noises.

My nightmare was coming back to me.

Scared out of my mind that something would emerge from the shadows and kill me, I moved faster.

Should I go back to the base? No, no, I was too wired, and absolutely positive that something horrible waited there. I had to keep going.

Then, at long last, I found a landmark.

A grand brick arch. The building behind it not lit but glowing, glowing a light, dazzling starlight blue. An amazingly sweet taste emanated from it so strongly I wasn't sure if it'd make me high or sick first. I didn't have to strain my dyslexic brain to read what it said.

Universal Studios.

A strange mix of emotions raged inside me at the sight. Relief that I was no longer lost. Fear that Charon would charge out with his ferry-steering stick to bash my head in. Anger that Gaea had shut it out. Uselessness because I wasn't any good with ghosts and couldn't come on Nico's Underworld expedition the next day. And, to my surprise, a bitter, bitter taste as I recalled Nico's panic the day he'd come with news of the ferryman's betrayal. Of Hades's absence.

Call me crazy, but I stormed right in.

The minds of the spirits were drugged and dazed and held no sensation, no memory. They were utterly empty. Of course, they would be until judgment. A bleak black hollow space pressed on my mind as I neared them, but I was angry enough to hold it back easily.

When I reached the door, I yanked it open much harder than necessary. It banged against the outside wall like the retort of a gun.

The spirits turned to me, wonder and curiosity tainting them. They could sense death and magic around me. And drachmas. The drachmas that'd get them on the ferry.

Charon, a tall and handsome black man in a creamy Italian suit, looked up at me from his desk.

"Are you dead?" he asked.

"Take a wild guess," I spat as I marched forward and stopped across the counter.

"Hm. Well, die and come back. Then we'll offer our services," he said coolly. His voice didn't come from his closed lips, though – rather, I could hear it echo around the room. Could feel it bounce around in my skull.

I slammed my fist down on the counter. "Charon, I don't want the ferry service. All I want is a few answers."

Now he frowned at me. The non-existent lights in the room flickered. "Child, I must ask that you leave at once. You're upsetting my customers and, quite frankly, are rather rude."

I scowled, but I knew how this creature worked. It was almost easy. "How much drachma do you want for a couple questions?"

Now he grinned. A too-wide, too-white grin. "…Drachma, you say?"

I dropped ten onto the counter. "Drachma. Pure gold. Immortals use nothing less, if I'm correct?"

He nodded eagerly, eyes fixed on the coins. His lips and skin were looking rather transparent now. The grin was all the wider.

"Now," I said. "I'll ask a question. I'll hand you coins until you talk. I got many questions, and more money where that came from. Are you ready?"

I could almost see through his disguise clearly now. The skull's grin was overly obvious. His suit was shifting and tearing into a dark, ragged cloak. "Ready," he whispered.

"Good. Question one; why is the Underworld closed?" I grabbed one coin and pushed it towards his side of the counter. One skeletal, bony hand reached up and took it. And the next coin. And the next. And the next.

"I believe," he said, teeth clattering as his voice emanated, "that your buddy Jupiter ordered it so."

A sharp, panicked, exhilarated flutter went off in my chest. And total shock. Zeus? Order Hades to close the Underworld? Was he kidding?

…Why?

"Of course," Charon went on, now in his true form and holding his giant wooden pole, "I could be wrong." I handed him two more coins. "Ah, now I remember. I was right. It was Jupiter's orders."

I let out a long breath, hiding my emotions with all the experience I'd had in my short life. "Question two; why is Olympus closed?"

Eight coins later, he said, "Same reason."

My heart was racing now. I prayed he couldn't hear it, but of course he could. I dimly wondered if he could feel the sweat I was leaving on the coins, too. "Question three; why did Jupiter order these things?"

"Ah," Charon sighed, and put his new coins into his pocket. "That, I'm afraid, I cannot share. As a matter of fact, I believe I'm required to kill anyone who asked me that."

"You didn't wait for Nico to ask," I muttered.

"Oh, I had orders to chase him off on sight, obviously. I hoped it would earn me a pay raise. Sadly, it didn't," Charon said cheerfully, grinning his skeletal grin.

I glared at him. "Well? You gonna have a go at me?"

"Hm. I might. But I can hardly remember what you asked…"

I sighed heavily and handed him three more coins. "Ah. What were we talking about again, Miss Brianna?" he crooned.

Anger was starting to rise in my throat again. But not at him.

_Why _wasn't I able to figure anything out? The dream, Jason, Zeus's orders… Gaea's want for me alive…

If only Hades had been loyal to Nico and told him why. Then we could've escaped all this mess.

"I believe," I whispered, "that I was leaving you a message to give to my father."

"Oh. That." He took on a sweet, mocking monotone. "Hello, and good day to you! We hope you've had a nice death and thank you for choosing Styx Charon for your journey into the afterlife! If you have something to say, please leave a message after the beep. We should respond in about two hundred years. Beeeeeep."

He shrugged at me helplessly.

The annoying, sarcastic jerk. No wonder he got no pay raise. With no other way to throw it back in his face, I went along with it. "Heeey, Pluto. It's your daughter. Just wondering, you know, why you vanished so suddenly. Kind of left every demigod out here in the real world to die just like all the other Olympians did. It's been kind of hard. Just thought I'd check into make sure you haven't been overthrown yet. Call me back when you get the chance, bye."

Charon just kept smiling. "Very nice message. He'll get it the day you die."

I grit my teeth and had to dig my nails into my palm to keep from slamming my fist down on the counter. Or on his head. "Charon, just give him the message."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said with another helpless and noncommittal shrug.

"Not even because the world could die if we can't find a way to communicate?" I prompted, raising an eyebrow. "Not even if lack of said message could deliver the apocalypse?"

He shrugged once more. "An apocalypse would be good for business."

I lost it. I yelled and kicked the counter so hard, pain shot up my leg. "For the love of the Fates! _What _in Hades is it with immortals and immorality?! What kind of god plays around and breaks the rules like he's nothing more than a petty, insignificant little human?!"

_Most of them,_ I could recall Ethan saying.

"Miss," Charon warned coldly. "Do not make me call security on you."

I sighed and shook my head. "You know what? Don't. I'll let myself out. Obviously, there was nothing worth my trip in here, and no reason to stay longer. Have fun sitting here watching dead people stare out the windows."

With that, I spun on my heel and marched out, wondering why in the world it was _my _life that had to be so damn complicated.

oOo

**Nyx: I BEAR NEWS. The Titan's Curse movie will come out in 2015.**

**Nic: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**

**Nyx: Yeah. Well. Anyway, I had this chapter done yesterday evening, but it sucked. And the convo with Jason was WAAAY too long and scattered. So I fixed it at like midnight and rewrote the whole thing. There's not much of Jason as a person/character in here, but just so you have a heads up, I write Jason, Leo, and Piper a tad different than Rick Riordan does. I'll explain in depth when they begin to play a bigger role in the story. They do come in eventually. As does Percy and Annabeth, Percabeth fans.**

**Nic: Yay for Percabeth!**

**Nyx: Okay, so we kind of have to ask this again because nobody answered, but we need some feedback to see how we're portraying the characters. Please, please, please review! We need to hear a couple predictions from you. A few guesses. The guesses will tell us if we're too obvious, too discreet, etc.**

**Nic: First, we need to know who the 'girl in the ditch' is. Constantly referred to as 'the girl' or 'she'. You don't know her name yet. Any ideas on who she might be and her motives are welcome.**

**Nyx: Second, we need your predictions on the half-blood hanging with Dr. Thorn. Any thought you have on him. We've been dropping hints as to who he is.**

**Nic: And last, something else of your choice. What you choose to talk about will tell us something, too. Pick something and make a comment or criticism.**

**Nyx: Three simple things. You'd be doing us a HUGE favor by answering! And thanks for reviewing!**

**Nic: All comments are appreciated, from flames to random remarks about Nico resembling Ciel Phantomhive. Seriously, it's not like reading reviews is wasting our time or anything.**

**Nyx: Alright, so that's it for this chapter… Oh, and you would have an extra one soon, but as I'm working on the cover again it won't get done quite that fast. Yay for the cover. It's coming along great. Until Thursday, guys!**


	36. The Shadow Children

**DISCLAIMER: Hey, guys. Guess who owns PJatO and HoO? CHUCK NORRIS.**

**No. It's Rick Riordan.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: Well, Cookie, I can say yes, there are going to be pairings. With a lot of characters. There are still a ton of Rick Riordan's yet to come in, and just as many OC's. But I will not tell you who the pairings are for until you read them. And, uh… Did you swap Hazel and Bianca's names by accident? 'Cause Hazel isn't in TTC? Or maybe I just read out of context and you meant a different book? And THANK YOU for that note. I was unaware of that. Can't have Mary-Sues, can we? I'll work on it. There are some events already planned for her that should help. Thanks so much for pointing that out.**

oOo

My mind hates me.

It, like most things, is cursed by irony. I've worked for years to find a way around the troublesome part of my demigod powers – nights and nights of trying to ignore the ringing in my ears, the taste on my tongue. Deaths weren't as powerful when they're far away. But they do happen, and being the Ghost King, I do sense it.

It's most noticeable when I close my eyes and empty my mind in an attempt to sleep. The constant noise and twitches and strange feelings in my chest don't just leave me like the rest of the world will.

The one night in a long while that I was tired enough to escape the constant chatter, my brain happened to be busy working on the very problems that made me want to melt it.

I tossed and turned beneath the covers for hours. The bed was too soft and just too easy; I wasn't used to the luxuries of comfort and safety when I slept. My mind was determined to take advantage and turned things over on its own, no matter how I tried to stop it.

_Something isn't right. It just doesn't add up._

But what _was _it? Gaea's interest in Bree was one, but a dark and bristling sensation in my gut told me that there was another.

If only I had just a little more information.

I got so worked up, I wondered if telling Hunter and Brook the full story would actually save more lives than it'd endanger. Maybe they were smart enough to actually get something out of all this mess.

But no. I sighed heavily. The only thing I knew was the 'who' factor. And it really didn't amount to much.

When sleep finally came, it was dreamless.

I woke feeling tired, battered, and bruised. Marks from our scuffle with the Manticore finally fading. But my mind began to churn itself to bits and the sounds of the dead were rising once more, and I knew there was no going back.

With a groan, I lifted my head and looked around. Being on the edge of the hall, my bedroom was the only one with a window. Through it I could confirm, despite the city's harsh unnatural lights shrouding the sky, that it was still maybe two hours before dawn.

Perfect. Now I had to wait until I left for the Underworld.

And I wasn't exactly dying for more time to think.

I laid on my back, glaring hatefully at the ceiling, for a while. I took nectar for my leg and removed the brace to find I could stand without it. Dark thoughts still played with my conscious and started to spread an itching, frustrating fire through my limbs. Said limbs then began to twitch. A fierce, aching need to be moving gripped me like sharp and thorny claws.

So I got up and paced the room. Nothing. It left my shoulders and arms free. They jumped and trembled and did me no good.

At last, I caught sight of the adjourning bathroom. Why not?

I sorted through my bag until I found the bar of soap and small bottle of traveling shampoo I kept for when I got opportunities like this. I then killed as much time as I could standing beneath the shower's steaming stream.

It helped. My muscles relaxed and let tension go, not unlike the way I'd seen the calm restoration of Camp after the war had ended. My mind became fuzzy and high on the thick steam. Thoughts became muddled and almost sleepy again.

I stepped out of the bathroom dressed and ready to go, hair still dripping. It felt nice to leave it wet. But frustration rose again like an ugly weed when I saw that I still had thirty minutes left.

I pulled my jacket tighter around myself and mumbled. The dark, questionable thoughts were emerging again.

Before they could take over, though, I had let out a long breath and sat down on the bed. Getting worked up with myself wasn't going to fix anything. It took me a minute, but eventually I had a clear, awake mind.

_The prophecy is a lie. It's probably something around it that isn't making sense, and in reality, that would _make _sense seeing as Gaea's just messing with us._ I nodded to myself, very much liking this conclusion. But that worm in my gut was still telling me that I was just a tad off the mark. Again.

I glanced at my window, judging the time. Still a while before sunup. Could I last that long?

Then I remembered I wasn't alone. There _was _one person I could ask to distract me. Or even help.

Well, two, but something told me Phil was just going to annoy me again.

I got up and opened the door, creeping down the hallway. All the way to the Hecate statue. I waved to it as I stopped and hung over the staircase railing, looking. Bree was very fond of her sisters, I thought with a pang of bitter grief, and had probably crashed with them downstairs after they'd returned.

Brook was sprawled out with Moon and other wolves next to the black Cerberus statue. Still in wrinkled clothes and hair a mess and bow squeezed tight in her little fingers. Despite her recent distaste for me (it had not faded with the spat Bree and I had), the sight made me smile. She was like her mother. But, though not totally clean, much more innocent.

Hunter was on the couch. Well, part of her was. Her legs were sticking up off the back of it and hanging in the air like old fence posts. One arm was on the couch and the other on the carpet, next to her head. This was not near as cute as Brook was. Something about it seemed very, very dangerous. I dimly wondered if she had ever accidentally killed someone in her sleep.

Seeing Bree wasn't with them, I turned and made my way across the hall to her room. The door stared at me, cold and stoic. A wave of my hand set the knob-less slab of rock swinging open.

"Bree," I whispered, the door just cracked so that I wasn't quite intruding. "You up?"

"You know," I heard Phil call from downstairs, "I could say, 'I told you so' right now, because, you know, I did. That you enjoy her company. But I won't."

I ignored him, hoping he'd shut up before he woke the others. "Bree?" I called again.

No answer. Should I wake her? Now, if it were Hunter, I wouldn't dare. But Bree was just a tad less likely to kill me. And it wasn't too long before sunrise.

But, obviously, I valued sleep. I wasn't about to deprive her of it.

Half jealous, half glad she was able to catch a few z's, I smiled and turned to leave. Just two steps away from forgetting about it.

But as I turned, I saw something through the cracked door. A blanket strewn across the carpet.

A frown found its usual position on my face. Then it deepened. I pushed the door open and confirmed it; the twisted sheets had been tortured there on the floor beside the bed.

The empty bed.

"Bree?" I asked, no longer whispering. Alarm began to leak into my chest. "Bree? Where are you?"

Of course, the abandoned room graced me with no answer. I pushed the door open all the way and strode in on mechanical legs. While they checked behind the dresser, behind the bed, in the bathroom, my spiteful mind whirled.

She couldn't be gone. She wasn't. We were all here and we had the statues. Nothing could've invaded this house, at least not silently. She had to be somewhere. She had to be.

But the dark nook beneath the bed was empty, too. As were the other bedrooms.

"Yep. See. You were right," Phil said, rather out of character.

"Shut up!" I howled as I raced down the stairs. "She's probably in the basement or something."

"Now, why on earth would she be there? You ought to come to your senses. Why am I the one always doing this for you?"

"Because you're so damn fickle and righteous about everything," I spat when I raced past. Thanatos glared coldly at me as I leapt down the basement stairs.

One by one, I flung open the doors, running as fast as I could while still checking thoroughly. She wasn't behind any of them. When I got to the training cavern, I called again, checking behind each pile of crates lest she, for some strange reason, be lying wounded behind one.

Nothing.

Alarm was changed, corrupted and proven right, conceded to the point it turned to horror. I raced back up the stairs and slammed the door behind me. Where else to look? The bathroom in the kitchen! I bolted for it without another thought.

"Nico," Phil called. "You're being ridiculous."

"Be quiet!"

"You knew this was gonna happen. You knew what the stakes were. People are only flesh and bone. Even her. You knew this was how it'd end."

"There is no 'this'! She's crashed somewhere odd, that's all!"

"Listen to yourself. You're the very image of what you wanted to avoid. Even lost in denial."

I shot through the kitchen again and yanked the blinds aside. Nothing in the backyard.

No. Great gods of Olympus, I knew my luck, but not this. This wasn't fair. We were in a safe haven and we'd all been there and I had dared to take a chance at last. I'd gone against Father's orders and defied my own hard-earned instincts.

But irony haunts me. There is nothing else I could say.

"They never found Bianca's body, either," Phil added, rambling to himself.

The name felt like live wires strung through me. "I said _shut up!_ There's no way anyone could've gotten in here!"

"Oh, sure. She just left voluntarily and handed herself in."

"You don't know what-"

"SHUT THE FRONT DOOR YOU PSYCHO I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" a furious voice exploded, making me flinch. We'd woken Hunter. And a grumpy Hunter might as well have been her father.

Call me crazy, but I charged the demon.

I left the kitchen behind, yanked a pillow off the chair, and threw it right in her shocked face.

I got it back in the same manner. "What in Hades was that for?!" Hunter screeched.

The pillow fell, forgotten, to the carpet. A cold breeze ran through the room as the words forced themselves past my lips. They didn't have my permission. Nor did my mind. But it happened, anyway.

"Wake up. Bree's gone."

oOo

She was quite glade now that her luck had run out. The game of chances was over. Reality ruled this battlefield now.

And reality, she could handle easily.

_Always make the best of what you can. _Here was her chance. It wasn't too good to be true or particularly horrible. Not lucky or the opposite. It just was.

The fact was so reassuring. No more strange events, no more of the guessing game. This was real, and she knew how to deal with it, and deal with it she would. It would require work as it should. It would require skill. But no luck.

Such an easy game it was now. She had lived on these streets her whole life. She'd taught herself since childhood how to deal with reality.

Make the best of what you can.

It felt good to live in a sensible world again. She reveled in the sight of the raven-haired girl walking past, glaring at the air before her and muttering about how hard-headed a skull could be. Perfect sense.

After all, Bree could afford to walk LA's streets alone. She had the Underworld beneath her combat boots. She had shadows at every corner, even in the hot California days. And it made sense that it would be her instead of Hunter. It should always take effort. Bree was not the girl's target.

But she could make do with this. Easily.

She smiled and slid into position. A yell to startle her into a crucial moment of shock, some magic in case things went wrong. This could very easily work.

No luck, no chances. Just Bree, the girl, and her smarts. This was the world she was familiar with.

Watching Bree stride up the street, she fell into position to wait.

oOo

Stupid skeleton. I know what the skull's for, but geez, that guy was too hard-headed.

_Pluto ought to give him a pay raise for that sort of act,_ I thought.

Things were not going my way today. Romans invading not only this mess with Gaea but a quest full of Greeks. Charon shutting me out just as he had to Nico.

And that stupid dream.

The shadows were lightening and fading. The city's cluttered song was in full bloom now. Cars and whistles and chatter and the whirr of machinery. Dawn's pink and orange streaks were beginning to fade into the light, shining, glowing blue that followed the sun's glorious rebirth each day. Light blessed this crowded, cursed place now. There was far too much of it for the events that conspired here now. For the clash of wills and sick plans of the Fates orchestrated in this too-cheerful stage.

Despite that light, my dream still haunted me.

I missed the shadows that'd scared me so deeply the night before. At least, as Nico had pointed out, I could've used them to kill the things they held. But they were gone now. The sun was out. The fierce power of the night had abandoned me. And the sun was not enough to banish the demon wolves and crooked, raspy voice from my mind.

This was not fair.

_I shouldn't have come out here, _I scolded myself, clenching my fists and glaring at the street ahead. Pedestrians didn't usually come this close to Charon's office, so it was empty right now.

But a voice in the back of my mind whispered. I'd had no choice. Even now, I feared going back to that house.

_Your sisters will be up by now. Nico, too. You'll be able to send him off at dawn…_

…Dawn!

I gasped and stared at the East, but it did not betray me. The sky was light. The shadows had indeed faded. The sun had risen.

_No! No! I had hours when I walked into the Studios! Surely I didn't talk to Charon for that long…?_

Too late, I recalled what Nico had said of the tunnel to the Underworld. _"Magical corridors often have their own clocks."_

A few minutes in the Universal Studios must've been hours out here, in the real world. It was the only explanation. There was no other way to fit the sun's great travels into the past events.

And now daylight flooded this forest of concrete. I was in the Daylight Disaster's territory.

_I have to get back,_ I realized with new horror, glancing nervously at the nearby corners. _Fast._

Instinctively, I turned to the nearest alley, knowing I could shadow travel from there. Gaea could send no demon that fast after me. I took two eager steps forward before I saw it.

Just a flicker. I'd have missed it if she'd remained still. But the shift of light was enough. My hand flew for Întuneric.

"Wait!" a startled voice cried. Something rushed at me from the dark alley.

I didn't wait much longer than that.

A cold surge of shadows shot forward from behind the figure, and it came sprawling forward. I danced to one side and, as it passed, clipped its shoulder with Întuneric. A pained shriek told me the Stygian iron had done its job.

She whirled around with daggers drawn without pausing, though, and I let instinct take over. Perhaps Hunter was right, and my mind did work on Kronos's sly tricks; though yet again, Nico had done this, too. It normally didn't make sense to give your opponent ground.

Unless you had a sword short enough to take advantage of their extra-long lunge.

I saw it a moment before it played out. She shot forward in a blur, and I was ready, timing my move perfectly. Just a little closer, and I could get under her arm and-

My boots made a hollow plodding sound on a street drain, just two moments before I was to strike.

It exploded.

A startled, drowned yell escaped as I went flying backward, drenched in the water that'd blasted out. I choked and spat and then sucked in more when I landed flat on my back in the street. Asphalt scraped painfully up my spine.

From the sidewalk, the girl cried out again, words unintelligible to me.

You don't think in a fight, and you don't stop. Still breathless, I rolled to my feet and charged, not even bothering to confirm her exact position first. Two steps in, I hit the shadows.

I left them behind when I reached her, well faster than she could ready herself.

We crashed into one another with enough force to crack bone. I locked onto her shoulders and used my knees to set us rolling, Întuneric pressed to her back. She screeched and water splashed on us again.

Well, on me. She remained dry.

The moment of wet, slippery distraction was enough. She squirmed violently and managed to get me beneath her. The air was squeezed painfully from my chest and something sharp – her dagger – pierced the skin just beneath my collarbone.

I cried out and shoved her off before she could drive the knife home. The bloodied dagger went skidding across the pavement.

Not giving her the time to charge again, I darted back out into the street and whirled, feeling that blessed sun's warmth on my back. Imagining it burning in her eyes.

It worked. She paused and squinted, uncertain. Water was still spraying from the busted street drain and gathering in a wave, heading towards me, but all too slowly.

About time this was ended.

I crouched low and sprinted to my right but still towards her, lifting Întuneric. She saw me leave the protection of the sun and whirled to face me, daggers raised and glinting crimson-

-And I darted to the left, making sure to cross the sun's deadly rays again before hooking my arm around her shoulders and driving her back, back across the sidewalk and hard into the brick wall. With a startled grunt, her daggers clattered to the pavement.

I pulled her back and slammed her against the wall again to make sure she understood. Then, one hand across her shoulders and the other holding Întuneric to her throat, I whispered, "Put down the water toys. If I so much as hear a drop, I'll kill you here and now."

Behind me, there was another splash as the wave hit the road.

I panted, glaring at the dirty girl I'd captured. Hah. One thing I could knock into its place today. Not even the bleeding sting across my collar could daunt me.

"Stop…" she rasped, squirming uncomfortably. But she made no move to escape.

The fire of the fight still blazed in me. "Fine. I'll let you go. But start one funny move, and you won't finish it."

She gulped and nodded. "Alright. Alright. I got it."

Slowly, I stepped back, making sure to keep my sword level.

She glared up at me with startling turquoise eyes. Sharp, angry ones. Her dark hair hung oily and stringy in her face. She looked like she'd been living in the sewers. Her camouflage outfit was indeed that; I'm sure she'd blend right in down there, what with the mess it was in. A golden chain necklace dangled like glittering beads from her throat.

No, not beads. Little gold plates designed like waves.

She spat on the concrete and said coldly, "You know, I only said 'hi'."

"I wasn't willing to take chances," I explained in an equal tone. "What are you doing here?"

"I happen to _live _here," she growled. "I came to ask you for help."

An unchecked laugh burst past my lips. Help. That was so funny. I couldn't save myself or my sisters or even Nico from the dream or Charon or the Romans or Gaea. There would be no_ help_ for anyone. "You're lost, then."

"No, no I'm not." She glanced around nervously. Then, seeing no one, held out a shaking hand. "My name is Shay."

I glanced at her hand, at her. The fire of the fight had vanished from her eyes.

Întuneric lowered. I shook her hand. "Bree."

"I know. I've been following you guys for a long while," she admitted.

"You must be desperate for help."

"You have no idea," she muttered, glancing behind me at the rainwater flooding the street. "Look, it's not safe to speak here. You know that things have been changing during the daytime. If I gave you an address, could you send someone to meet me there at noon?"

Suspicion unfurled in my stomach again, and the hand holding Întuneric twitched. "…What location? What someone?"

Those turquoise eyes met mine, as if she knew they reminded me of painful things, and intensified with fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of hope. But hope she dared. "I need to speak with Hunter, the Daughter of Time."

oOo

**Nyx: I like that one. At the beginning. I prefer to think that, like me, Nico is kind of philosophical when he's got too much time on his hands. And that of course has its ups and downs.**

**Nic: I bet y'all have some ideas about Shay now, huh?**

**Nyx: Please do review! In particular about Shay, yes, but anything else is welcome, too. Thanks. I don't have much time so I'll wrap this up fast… What else…**

**Nic: Cover.**

**Nyx: Yes, the cover's coming great. The Clone Stamp Tool is great for scales.**

**Nic: Kol it sure sounds like it.**

**Nyx: :3**

***the chapter name is in reference to the Shadow Children series, guys***


	37. Fear

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns the PJatO series. Don't listen to the cat; he's lying.**

**REVIEW RESONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: They're looking for the MR cast now, actually, if I'm right. They've got the script and directors and crew all set. They just need actors and they can start rolling. James Patterson is directing it with some guy named Gary. They are no longer considering Robert Patinson and Keirsten Stewart for Fang and Max, thankfully.**

oOo

Fury began to flicker and burn in my veins, but I held it at bay. "And what would you want with her?"

"Just to speak. I swear by the Styx, if I harm her against my word, I will drown myself in Greek fire," she insisted, eyes blazing now.

I scowled. "And if an oath over the River isn't enough for me to trust you with that?"

"You expected it to be enough for Jason when his and his friends' lives were on the line. It seems fair that I should expect the same of you for your sister."

Gods, how I wanted to smack that smile off her face.

It widened when she saw I was stuck. "I'm not out to hurt you guys. Honest. You have no idea how long I've waited for a moment like this."

Despite the devious look on her face, the gravity of her tone betrayed something deeper. As did those bright eyes. Something told me that she meant exactly what she said.

I sighed and sheathed my sword. "Here. I've got some nectar. It's a small cut on your shoulder, but it's by Stygian iron, and I wouldn't trust it."

"I'm fine. I have some at the beach," she said, waving off the hand on the canteen at my belt loop. "But if you had a pen, that'd be nice."

"A pen? Well, I know you don't go to our school," I muttered, figuring she must've been the one person in the world who'd expect me to have a writing utensil on me. As I reached for my pocket I glanced around nervously, watching for any movement. But we were still alone.

Eventually she found a marker in her pocket. It was dirty and nearly dry but worked. She scrawled an address in Greek across my left forearm and sat back, admiring her work. "There. It's not too far from here, actually."

I looked up at her, not sure what I was waiting for next.

"Please give it to her. My life depends on this."

"You know, the fact that you're desperate doesn't comfort me," I decided, eyeing the skies again. The sun was slowly sliding on, like a schoolchild dared to reach out and pick up a spider. "Noon, you said?"

"Noon. Today. If you miss the meeting, I'll knock on your door tomorrow."

"And this meeting place. It's a safe location to talk?"

She chuckled. "Not for most. But so long you're with me, it'll be fine."

That wasn't too comforting, either. Though if she had wanted Hunter and wanted her harmed, coming up with this complex ambush plan was much more work than holding me ransom, especially since Gaea wanted me alive. And perhaps I was biased. Perhaps I'd trust anyone with that strange color in their irises.

At least she wasn't some demon wolf or infernally creepy voice.

"Alright. Noon, got it."

She nodded eagerly and, moving faster when I made no move to stop her, backed into the alley once more. "You should get home soon. I've seen what the Daylight Disaster can do. You don't want to run into it. May the Fates favor you."

With that, she turned, disappearing into LA's streets, and I knew that if I wanted to find her in this city again, it'd be a long, long search.

oOo

Shadow travel. Thank the gods.

No sooner had she gone did I run into the alley after her. Only I ran much, much faster.

The half-dreaded, half-welcome living room blurred and bled into existence, colors fading in and shadows thinning out to the strange dark planes that they were in this dimension. My own shadow still buzzed and whispered, as if it were alive. Sure enough, it moved with me, silently from the door to the couch. My heart began to race as dark memories came back to me. I stared, horrified, for a moment at the corner leading to the kitchen. When no demonic creature peeked its head around, I let out a breath.

Sunlight streamed in through the blinds. The shadows weren't hiding so much from me now.

I cast one more glance around the room before turning my back to it and tip-toeing to the window. One peek through the blinds revealed the city. No Daylight Disaster, no winged, goo-covered drakon, no Manticore.

I dimly wondered if we'd already met the Disaster. It could easily be the drakon, which had the size and had been seen in broad daylight, something most monsters were afraid of. _I should mention that to the others…_

…The others.

A fierce worry lodged itself in my throat as I whirled, searching. But the stairs were empty and the room so painfully vacant. No creaks or groans could be heard of them upstairs.

_They're gone!_

Phil stared at me, grinning his little sadistic grin, hollow eyes reflecting the lonely old funeral home.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind did I hear the basement door open and slam shut again. Striding, slightly uneven footsteps rang out from the kitchen. I tensed and let my hand fly to my pocket, flinching at the resulting sting from my cut, dread filling my throat. So the demons were here after all…

…Nico's voice rang out, too loud and too fast to be characteristic, but his nonetheless. "No. The chain lock was done from the outside; nobody's been in the tunnel alone."

My muscles relaxed and I let out a long, heavy breath. Just Nico. If I was right, then he was probably talking to my sisters, who must've been waiting quietly in the kitchen and out of my sight. It was alright. They were still here.

I glanced over my shoulder, eyeing the stairs. No evil and twisted creature emerged. Yet I still didn't trust this house.

In the kitchen, the conversation continued. Hunter's forced tone and carefully even voice set off warnings in my head. "No, I don't think so. The better bet is to head back to where the Manticore was when the might-be spell was attempted. If she has anything to do with that magic, then she'll be with them in their new location. We can try and track them down from there."

"That makes sense," Nico mused in a monotone. His voice was still too fast, like he was eager to get every word as far away as possible. There was the crinkle and crackle of paper unfolding before he said, "But it still wouldn't hurt to map the Disaster sites out, just so we can see if there's a pattern." He cursed. "We should've investigated this before now."

"Well, let's make up for lost time," Hunter snapped. "Where were we when we fought the Manticore and his demigod buddy? The night when I accidentally snapped your brace?"

I frowned. What on earth were they talking about?

"Give me a sec…" Nico replied in his strained voice. "It should be… No…" Anger bled into his tone. "Gods forsake it! Stupid dyslexia!..."

There was a heavy sigh from Hunter, followed by a sharp smacking sound. She'd hit him. "You've got it upside-down _again,_ genius! Give it here!"

There was more shuffling and silence from Nico as he surrendered. He didn't even mutter his frustrations to Phil. This, to me, seemed very off. Like opening a book to find the words were gone.

Hunter scowled audibly at him. "Don't give me that look. At least I'm being productive."

"Guys!" Brook yelled.

There was silence.

"Stop arguing," she said, much softer now. "It's wasting time. We know that they have her because they need her alive for something. The longer we sit here and think, the more they'll try to force it out of her, and the bigger chance they'll get it done and relieve her of her use, which would result in them finishing her off. If we don't want that then I suggest we SHUT THE HELL UP and WORK TOGETHER."

I froze, utterly shocked. It was so rare, Brook got that furious….

And then I realized what they were talking about.

My mind was in a jumble of thoughts, tumbling around one another like they'd crashed on a Ferris wheel, as I strode forward. Time to end this, dang was she angry, Hunter was gonna kill me, Brook never used that language before…

"You know," I said as I let my boots clack loudly on the kitchen floor, "I know that Hunter and I do it all the time, but you really shouldn't curse. It's a bad habit."

It was the thought on my mind at the moment. Too late, I realized it was probably the wrong one.

I found myself staring at the three of them. They were gathered around the table, a map spread out over the dark wood, frozen in place and staring right back at me. Even Moon had stopped squirming and shuffling in her usual goofy manner.

Then Brook seemed to shadow travel, one moment across the room and the next squeezing the air out of my lungs. "Enph," I wheezed, stumbling.

She laughed at me. "You're back!"

Those two words, all she had to say. _You're back._ Didn't ask where I'd been, what I was thinking, why I was bleeding. Not 'What would Ethan say?'

I'd honestly, truly worried her. Guilt felt like it was rotting my insides.

"Yeah," I rasped through her tight hold, squeezing back lightly. "I'm back."

"And she's alive!" Hunter crowed, shattering the stifling quiet. Her long arms wrapped around us both. "Group hug! Come on, Nico! Join in! We know you want to."

And just like that, everything was back to normal. Her voice made the tension dissolve and the guilt let up and my lips twitch into a smile. The house dispelled the demons it hid and they didn't come back.

For the first time in days, I wasn't scared.

Then, of course, there was the suggested idea of phlegmatic Nico participating in a hug. I laughed.

Brook pulled back first with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"It's alright," I said, gasping at the air. Hunter let go as well and spun me around, holding me at arm's length by the shoulders. She stared for ten long seconds before nodding and turning me loose.

"Could be worse," she approved, "considering The Patron is looking for a chew toy. Hold on. I've got some nectar in my bag." She disappeared into the living room.

I smiled after her and turned, unconsciously towards the eyes I felt on me. When I caught Nico's gaze, the smile vanished.

He stood rigid, made of stone, lips pressed together and dark eyes beyond furious. In them was the all-too-familiar hate.

I cringed back slightly. "…Hi."

"_Hi?" _he spat. He didn't have to scowl; I could read it in his eye. "_Hi?_ Where have you been?"

"Um… I, uh, went for… a walk."

"A walk?" Hunter asked as she reappeared, nectar and bandages in hand. "Oh, good. I was afraid it was a jog."

"A walk?" Brook echoed, looking confused.

"Walk. Two-legs walk," Moon confirmed, sniffing my feet. "Concrete smelling."

Nico's crippling glare intensified. "A walk? Why?"

"I, see, uh.. Had a…" Suddenly, the idea seemed ridiculous to me. "…Nightmare?"

"You went out _alone?_ In this hellhole? Do you realize – when you didn't come back…"

He cut off rather suddenly and stared at his feet. I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again when I saw, glinting through his bangs, that the hate was still in his eyes.

I looked away from him. "I'm sorry."

He had no reply.

Hunter motioned towards a chair. "Sit. Let's fix the cut, and you can explain. I'm sure there's a legitimate reason."

"Not really," I muttered, but sat down anyway. I didn't even feel guilty anymore. Just miserable. "It was just a stupid dream. I needed some air, so I set out. I didn't think it'd take that long… I spoke to Charon while I was out, though. And a couple other people. So it wasn't fruitless."

"Charon?" Hunter asked, handing me the nectar. "The skeleton ferry guy?"

"Mm-hm. And I came across Jason Grace. The Roman demigod leader. And then there was this weird chick with knives. She's the one that did this. She tried to say hi and I was a little jumpy and might've started a little scuffle…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she said, cutting me off with a chuckle. "That all sounds really interesting, but you've got to slow down."

So I did, and I told them. First of the nightmare. Hunter thought that the ruined mansion might be the Underworld, but Nico quickly shut that idea down. I then moved on to Jason and his quest to save demigods. There was discussion on how I'd sent him off, whether he'd come back, and if we should be worried.

"The girl with the knives said they left," I pointed out. "Shay, her name was." Hence us skipping Charon and explaining Shay's odd request first.

I held out my arm for Hunter to see, careful to keep my other hand on the insecure bandage. "This is the address. She's pretty desperate to meet with you."

Hunter studied the grape-colored numbers carefully. "…Huh. Long Beach. Weird."

"Not really," I muttered. "She used a lot of water magic. Though she used them differently than Percy did on Mount Olympus when we fought him."

Hunter's eyes leveled with Nico's. "…Another child of the Big Three?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. She might be, like, the daughter of Triton or something."

His voice was still cold, signaling that I hadn't been forgiven.

I sighed heavily and, slipping my hands under the back of my shirt, tried to tie the bandage behind my back. It wasn't working that well. Every time I let it loose, it'd slide down to a place where I didn't really need it. I'd grunt and move it back into position just to have it fall again before I could tie it.

While I struggled with this, Brook spoke for the first time in ages. "And what did Charon say?"

"Charon? He was a royal hellhound," I muttered. "Decided it was funny to give me Hunter's answer machine routine."

"Great minds think alike," said blonde grinned. She was still trying to cheer us up.

I scowled down at my bandage again and held it firmly on my collar bone, staring at it, trying to figure out a better way to make this work. Maybe if I tied it around my neck, it wouldn't slide as I tied it…

From behind, another pale hand landed on mine. Nico. I craned my head back to smile at him, hope fluttering in my chest, before realizing the cold loathsome look had not left him. He was merely helping. I sighed and went back to tying the bandage.

"Did he have anything useful, though?" Brook asked, suspicion clear in her tone. She knew I had something.

I chewed on my tongue for a moment. "He, uh… He said he knew why the Underworld was closed."

Silence.

"Well?" Nico muttered, hand tensing.

"Apparently, Jupiter ordered it. But he wouldn't explain why."

Another moment of silence.

"Because he's a bull-headed control freak?" Nico muttered bitterly.

A barking laugh escaped my lips. "That's a distinct possibility, but I think The Patron had something to do with it. Maybe it's a protection measure. Maybe something's wrong inside the he doesn't want us to know about. I don't know. But he ordered both Hades and Olympus to be shut down. Charon confirmed it."

"A bull-headed control freak," Nico agreed.

Hunter laughed at it that time. "You know what? I think we already knew this. Why else would The Patron be so interested in LA? If they break into the Underworld, there isn't much in this world that could stop them then. And that would mean she isn't already in there. So it had to be an order from Olympus itself."

"I think that's the only reason he told me," I muttered. "Oh, and he said he'd like to kill us. Sorry, Nico."

He shrugged. "Charon will be Charon. Did you ask him about your dream?"

"Something about him didn't encourage discussion about my personal life."

"Hm," Brook muttered. Her gaze met mine. "So, that's it? Nothing else?"

"No, that's everything. There was one point where I thought I'd seen the drakon outside, but that was my imagination. We'd have heard about it if it was there."

She sighed heavily. "You know what? Ethan was right. We're all idiots. I'm gonna go check the news." With that, she disappeared into the living room.

Nico took his hands off the bandage – I'd finished the knot – and stared after her. "She seems upset."

"She worries. A lot," Hunter sighed. "More than she lets on. She woke up one day to discover Kronos and Ethan were both gone, and us damned to whatever fate Zeus had in mind. Today, she woke up to Bree missing. To top it off, she is the only one here who doesn't have Underworld magic. This place has her on edge. That, and the fact that the drakon got away, and that things don't stay dead. She's used to killing her prey and having it stay that way. Not it coming back and running off."

"This is kind of upside-down to her, isn't it?" I muttered, feeling bad that I hadn't considered that. I mean, I knew she worried, but she'd agreed so easily to come here. Something told me she hadn't known what was in store for her.

"Yeah. Upside-down," Hunter muttered, glancing at the map. "Nico, do you still plan on traveling to the Underworld today? Now that we know it'll be upsetting Zeus?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Please. Like Father would listen to him. That tunnel has to be open because he wants us there, no matter what his little brother wants. He knows his realm way better than the guy high on clouds all day."

I wasn't sure if I should laugh at the image that produced or worry that Zeus was now going to kill him for it. But no lightning decided to burst through the house and turn my half-brother to ashes, so I assumed if the god had heard, he was too stubborn to break his quarantine and avenge his dignity.

So I laughed.

Hunter did, too, more of a dark chuckle. "That's true. Still going alone?"

"Well, I was considering the consequences of going alone. Since you're all banned, I figured I didn't have a choice. But you've got summons now."

Hunter looked down at my arm. "…Yeah…"

"And since its in the daytime, you're taking Brook with you. So she doesn't worry."

"…Right…"

"And I'm beginning to wonder if it's wise to leave this idiot alone," he finished, jabbing at my left shoulder.

She nodded, clearly foreseeing this. I just stared at him in shock.

"You want…"

He scowled at me. "Well, did you want to be left here for the dreamt-up werewolves to come and get you?"

"I figured I'd just go with Hunter and Brook…"

"Yeah, well, just in case we run across something down there, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have backup. And someone needs to keep Phil in check, which I've proven I can't do."

Still I stared.

"Stop gaping like that. You look like I've told you The Patron ate your pants."

The contempt in his eyes was still there. Yet here he was offering me an invitation, as if there had never been a problem.

"Sure," I heard myself say. "I'll come with you. I just can't enter the actual Underworld, right?"

"Right. The tunnel should be fine." He stood and stretched. "Well. I'll go get my bag. Hunter, are you sure you guys will be okay?"

"We'll be fine. Brook can shoot a basilisk through the eye at two hundred feet. There's no way we'll fall into any ambush."

I followed them into the living room, where Brook was still examining the mortal news channels. There, they stopped, grabbing bags they'd set ready and packed by the door. I stood patiently to one side.

"Hey," Brook greeted me without taking her eyes from the screen.

"Hey," I sighed. "I really am sorry. Please don't be mad. I already have Nico ticked off."

"What, that psychotic idiot? He's as bad as Zeus," she said, lips twitching. "You should've heard him arguing with that skull earlier. Don't worry about him."

"I heard that," Nico muttered.

A smile broke across her face. "I know!"

"Moon know!" Moon echoed.

I chuckled at them. "Oh, that reminds me – I picked something up for you, Nico. Found it growing through a crack in the sidewalk." I dug around my pocket, shoving aside my iPod, until I found it. "Here."

He frowned at the wilted flower. It had withered and crumpled at my touch, but the wide mane of petals was still very recognizable.

"Ah. That's a dandelion, Ghost Boy," Hunter said, matter-of-factly. "A magical plant that Persephone uses to torture those who annoy her. Have you heard of it?"

He picked up the little flower and studied it. Then, surprising us all, he said, "Yes, actually, I have. She uses the white and fluffy kind, though. That way she can call them old." He raised an eyebrow at me and handed the dandelion back. "Nice try, though."

Moon frowned. "But seedheads are…"

There was a moment of silence as that awkward thought sank in. Nico shifted uncomfortably under our gazes until his eyes lit up and he, too, understood. His face fell to a grim, horrified look.

"No," he said flatly.

Which just made us laugh, and laugh hard.

Cheeks red, he made for the stairs, as if he'd left something up there. Hunter pointed and tried to say something, but it was lost in her hysterics. He refused to look at us.

But I caught a glimpse. On his face was a smile. And not the creepy kind.

oOo

**Nyx: Okay so yeah… This scene was not liking me very much… I fail at humor…**

**Nic: We are still looking for feedback on Shay, guys. Any predictions as to who exactly she is? Please do review! It'd be greatly appreciated!**

**Nyx: The cover is going slowly, but it's moving. I may lose my computer for a day or two in the near future, but no longer. The cover'll probably REALLY get going when I sit down and randomly decide to dedicate a whole day to it for no reason and then BAM it'll be like just a couple layers from finished. My inspiration will come soon. And hopefully it'll be better than the late inspiration that came for this scene.**

**Nic: Our poll currently has a five-way tie, if anyone's interested. Fav. PJatO characters. Go ahead and vote if you'd like; we need the tie to break before we close it.**

**Nyx: I think that's all…. So, until Monday…**

**Nic: What is that on your desk?**

**Nyx: An Altoids can…**

**Nic: And who supplied it this time?**

**Nyx: Um…. *eats Altoid nonchalantly***


	38. Flawed

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan still owns PJatO and HoO. (No, cat, you can't own them by owning him. That became illegal a long time ago.)**

oOo

Before Hunter and Brook left, I pulled them aside for one last pep talk.

"Slaughter anything that comes at you, alright? And remember what happened so you can tell a good story later."

Brook gave me her wide smile and mock salute. It was a bittersweet thing to see – I knew she wasn't the child she looked, and I knew she wasn't the warrior she thought she was.

Hunter, also in a good mood, had bellowed, "FOR SPARTA!"

That, I'll admit, I laughed at. We were still in a good mood from earlier. Dare I say my own act of idiocy caused it. So high-strung with everything else, a small spurt of good news like that had set our spirits soaring. And we needed a good flight to perk us up.

I just hoped we weren't flying into open air above any archers.

And with that (and one last playful poke at Nico's time as a flower), they left.

"I don't like this," I said as soon as they were gone. "They shouldn't be spending any more time out there than necessary."

"It's not the smartest move," Nico murmured, staring at the door carefully. "But Hunter decided it was better to risk it and scout the place out first, and I'm not stupid. I'm going to trust her judgment. This is one of her talents, and not one of mine."

I glanced sideways at him. "Oh, no? So should I feel lucky or unlucky that you asked me to come with you into the tunnels?"

"Neither. Luck doesn't exist," he said simply. Then, as a side note, "Shut up, Phil."

"You're so mean to him," I said, glancing nervously at the empty bone. "Maybe he wouldn't be so annoying if you listened now and then?"

Or maybe you'd realize he's not really talking to you at all?

Nico shrugged. "We actually get along quite well. I don't know why, but we only argue this much when you guys are around."

I stared after him as he made his way to the basement door, pondering for a moment just what that meant.

Eh. I didn't need more to think about. I shrugged it off and followed, making sure to grab Phil's skull as I went. Couldn't hurt to take him – it – with us. Nico glanced at me with unreadable when he saw the skull craddled in my hands.

"For, um, luck," I explained.

That crooked smile appeared again, just for a moment, before he turned and started down the stairs. "Whatever keeps the nightmares away, I guess."

It was a figure of speech, so I forced myself not to elaborate much on that. Together, we made our way through the basement and to the training cavern - also known as the Stronghold - to where the tunnel waited.

On the way there, I noticed his limp. I opened my mouth to ask if he was alright before realizing why; he'd removed the brace. Which was a good thing rather than bad. So I kept my mouth shut as we crossed the cave.

Nico knelt at the doors and said, "Stay close."

"I will," I said. Phil grinned his approval at me.

The chain rattled as he shoved it aside, and the doors creaked, revealing the long corridor still behind them after all these hours. Nico let out a breath I was sure I wasn't meant to hear. "Alright," he said. "I'll go first. Don't try to use magic down here, alright? These things are guarded against it in case of an attack. Even Underworld magic tends to jump around and do odd things. Even the glyphs probably won't be good for much more than light."

I knelt next to him and stared down the tunnel. It reminded me of an animal's burrow; long and dark and narrow. Square, but narrow. Dark walls glistened with the green torchlight and marched on, unmarked aside from their flawed and bumpy texture, into a blackness darker than the night.

Which wasn't a hard thing to be, in a big city like this, I reflected. I rather liked this tunnel. The walls were solid and their closeness was, actually, almost cozy-looking.

And then I realized the tunnel was pointed down.

"Um... how long is this thing?" I asked.

"Miles and miles. It's hard to give a certain number. I mean, there's magic deminsions to take into account, so it could be two miles of tunnel but in actuality like fifteen in distance. And then there's the fact that it could open in the top of Erebos, in Asphodel, or be one of those trap ones that just drops you from the roof of the cavern so that you'll die when-"

"I got it," I cut him off grimly. The image wasn't helping.

Miles and miles. I didn't like the way he'd ruled out yards, feet, or inches. The tunnel had to be at a thirty degree angle from straight-out plummeting, too.

So it was miles and miles _down, _basically.

Somehow, this had not occurred to me before.

"Bree. Hel-lo."

"Nt," I grunted, blinking at the hand waving before my face. "Sorry. What?"

"Unless you'd like to go first, I kind of need your sword. My glyphs don't glow until I activate them. Oh, and you might want to turn of the red burning one."

"Right. Right," I said, drawing my killer eraser from my pocket. I wiped my thumb over the glowing red engravings - the one that'd burn him if he touched it - and handed it to him. He clenched it in his fingers experimentally before nodding, satisfied by its multicolor light, and starting off down the tunnel.

"So, um, if the door's shut, we go back up backwards?" I guessed as I followed him, hobbling on one hand with Phil in the other, hugged close to me.

Before he could answer, the doors behind us slammed shut so loudly it echoed down the tunnel. There were seconds of eerie silence before the noise came back to us from below.

I closed my eyes and clenched my hands, clinging desperately to the floor. I would not slip. I would not slip.

"Maybe. I don't know," Nico said, nothing but a dark shape contoured by a dull rainbow color. "We'll just have to wait and see."

"Fun," I sighed, and on we went.

Not far into the trip, I found it was easier to zip up my jacket and wriggle (as much room as I could in the square yard of space I had) so that it hung on me crooked. That way, a good portion of the neckhole was actually exposing my shoulder. I managed to stuff the gleaming skull into it and zipped it tighter so that he and I resembled a strange two-headed undead creature. The grim image made my lips twitch as I went on. I had to tighten it again and add in the hood and the little tightning strings, so that naught but his gaping eyes showed through my jacket, but found that it worked. I was now free to crawl with both hands.

And resembled a strange two-headed undead _ninja _creature.

I looked around nervously at the walls and my hands for something new to fidgit with before realizing I couldn't see them. It was pitch black.

"Bree? Where'd you go?" Nico called from ahead. Way ahead down there, the light shone. I couldn't quite make out his shape through it; I'd fallen too far behind.

"I'm up here," I said. "Sorry. Had to get Phil situated. Hold on; I'm coming..."

The thing is with lights, though, is that they kill your night vision. That's why it's so easy to sneak up on those crowded around a warm fire on a cold, dark night; the light before them is what their eyes will focus on, and everything else appears dead black, even if that's not what it really is. The pupils would be too narrow to see into the shadows correctly. So light's only good in dark areas for looking at what's directly in front of you. That's why I was supposed to keep up with Nico; all we needed to see was the ground right before us, to reveal the bumps and dips and any random, Underworld-blocking wall we came across.

But now the light was too far ahead for me to see the ground before me. Slowly, digging my nails into the walls, I started down.

The light was so far away down there... What a long way down...

The hand holding my weight beneath me slipped.

I screamed and threw it to the side, pushing as hard as I could. Every instinct screamed for me to turn and go back up. To get to solid, even ground. Away from the empty air that might as well have been filled with gunfire. I hadn't fallen an inch over that slip, but it set my heart racing. I knew it was only a matter of time. It wouldn't be long before I fell for real.

Because if you stand on the cliff for so long, if you stand on Olympus, chances are that your time will run out eventually.

"Bree?!" Nico called, hearing my cry. "What happened?"

"I'm fine," I rasped, staring down at the light. I could just make out his shape now, if I squinted. "I just... slipped..."

"Easy does it," he called, which sounded odd to me. Nico, giving encouragement?

By the time I finally caught up, I had managed to disguise my shaking. "I'm fine," I said. "Let's just keep going."

He couldn't exactly turn to look at me, but he lifed one arm and let his head hang low so that he could catch a glimpse behind him. "Do you need to go slower?"

"No," came my immediate reply. I wasn't going to admit it to either of us. I wasn't scared. I wasn't slow. Besides, the faster we went, the sooner we'd reach the bottom, where there would be no room to fall...

He stared at me a moment more, nothing more than a dark and blurred shape with glinting eyes, before continuing down the shaft. I made sure to follow closely this time.

The cold, uneven surface beneath my hands was slightly reassuring. It provided little life-saving handholds. I didn't want to think about coming back up, backwards or forewards, and for now it would suffice.

And at least with Nico so close, if I slipped, we'd be too bulky a load to go far before getting stuck in this infernal tunnel. I told myself that over and over.

But you can tell yourself the same thing of a monster's gullet, that you're too big to fit down it. That you're safe from a demon you've been warned of. That the alien in that internet video you were told not to watch wasn't real and wouldn't stalk your bedroom at night. That the nightmares were nothing more. That the demons of your subconscious mind couldn't really be stalking past in the shadows.

Thing is, my nightmares were real. They always were.

The empty space itself radiated hostility. Suddenly the solid rock beneath didn't seem so trustworthy. I knew all too well that it was a traitor; in a moment, it could become what I dread. The cause of bruises and blood and breaks and a red-tinted splatter. The cold was rather freezing now, far too relentless to be pleasant. Like the whipping of wind as it went past.

"Leave her be, Phil," Nico said dryly out of nowhere.

I hardly heard. My mind was occupied with things I hadn't known it'd held onto.

At the time, I hadn't really seen Ethan fall. He was just there and then not, and as soon as he was gone from my fingers, so was everything else. I thought I'd closed my eyes. I thought maybe Kronos had killed me, or was about to.

But no. I kept my eyes open. I know because now, at the worst of times, the memory came to me.

Screams. They echoed through the tunnel from every direction, as if it'd been this very shaft. I couldn't think of another time I'd heard his voice so twisted, distorted, and broken. Ethan didn't scream.

Except he did then.

There were green eyes and his hair whipping in the wind. He kept his head turned up like... Like I don't know. Disbelief? Horror? Longing to be back up there? Shock that I'd dropped him? Betrayal?

Green eyes. They closed for the last time. He brushed the side of the chasm of the mountain just once before dropping into open air, nothing but a faraway ragdoll in the winds.

Then Kronos had distracted me. By the time I looked back, he'd vanished.

Anything that could turn his laugh into such twisted screams and those dark jade eyes to naught but the long lashes that covered them and that swift, able body into whatever Nico had found later that day, I couldn't face. It was still so impossible to imagine Ethan gone.

And the demon that'd done it...

...It came after me now. It tasted bitter and strong on the back of my tongue, trickling down my throat. It turned the shadows into that empty, venom-tasting air that was so deadly. It was what turned the rock against me.

Anything that could turn that boy to silence, the boy who'd set a rebellion on fire and taken torch to the skies over the Battle of Manhattan, could turn water to blood and the sky to a suffocating blanket and ice to the burnign fires of Tartarus and shadows into piercing, blinding lights. Light that didn't kill demons.

And it knew its place well.

As did I. Helpless as the prey I knew I was, too scared to be left alone again, I stayed close to Nico and constantly glanced behind me, just to be sure I wasn't about to be pushed. To remind myself that I'd already conquered greater heights. I'd stare at the ground beneath me so I'd know if it started to give way. I'd stare at my glowing eraser to make sure it was there, and I could call it to me should I need it.

Forget what I said about never admitting. I knew better. I let myself know; I was scared. Scared to the bone.

From somewhere ahead, forever pulling me downwards, Ethan's killer whispered, _You should be._

oOo

I held a certain amount of respect for those who face their fears. And a certain amount of the opposite for those who don't.

Hence my current argument with Phil.

"Dude, you're being mean. You should try to comfort her."

I ignored him. Bree had already told me what she wished; she had no intention to slow down or admit to me that there was a problem. Oh, I knew there was one; I could see it in every tense movement and hear it in every startled yelp, every gasp of breath through her lips. But she had chosen to wage war against it and put her fears back in their place. Somewhere they wouldn't control her.

I'm sorry, but I saw no reason to stop that war.

Let her win her honor. Let her win her mind back. I had no doubt that she could, after all. There need be no noise from me. Just peace standing by, and after that war was won, silent pride.

Pride, yes. The same pride all allied soldiers feel in one another.

"She's not winning that war," Phil hissed.

"Leave her be, Phil," I warned. She would win it. Eventually. It was her business. I would allow him to meddle in mine, but not in hers.

But as we went on I began to feel his concern. It sounded like she was dying back there. Rasped breaths and hands shuffling way too loudly. The jerk of too-tense muscles. Phil cursed as she accidentally crashed that shoulder into the wall.

Pity is an emotion of notion to me. It is useless to the one it's felt for, but it occurs. It's real use is to the one who pities; it tells them that they are still human.

Well, half-human.

Should a god not feel pity, we'd call him a Titan. Should a demigod lack it entirely, we'd name her a demon.

Pity did not come easily to me. I did not feel bad for those with struggles. We all had them, we all fight our battles. End of story. But now and then, after seeing that struggle for so long, I could feel it leak into me. I felt the traces of the emotion labeled with that, ah, petious name; pity.

I ignored it and let Bree soldier on.

"Quit acting like you don't have a heart," Phil muttered. "Do you realize how cold you look to outsiders?"

"I don't really care," I informed him. Besides, it was her battle.

"And where exactly does it say that she must fight it alone?"

I sighed heavily. Fighting my battles alone had been rough, but it'd ended just fine. What doesn't break you makes you. And what does break you... Well, that makes you, too.

Before we could discuss it further, Bree burst in with a breathless question. "Nico, can I tell you something?"

"Shoot," I said, figuring that it'd help her. And she'd been the one to ask; I had been pulled in, not interfered.

"I'm scared of heights."

I chuckled. "I could tell."

I had no further comment.

On we went. Her admittion seemed to do her no good; still there was startled gasps and quiet grunts and the occasional slip of hand that comes with sweaty palms. I tuned her out and listened to the tunnel, waiting for some signal. The whisper of a shadow guard. For the end to appear. Gods, if it really was open...

"Nico, I know you're ignoring her and all, and that you think it's her problem, but would it kill you to give just a little reinforcement?"

_And tell her what?_ I thought. That Ethan was alive? That some magical flying pony would catch her if she fell?

"Do you like watching her suffer?" Phil spat, angry now.

"No," I sighed. I'd seen her hesitate the other night on the roof of the abandoned apartment. I'd heard the strain in her voice the day I'd climbed her house and snuck in a window. And suffering and I were well familiar with one another, but... No, no, I hadn't ever liked the sounds of war. At least not when they were as obvious as they were now.

"Then at least supply her with weapons," Phil said, continuing our little analogy. "That's part of a mentor's job."

I sighed heavily. Weapons, I could do. And quite well.

"Give me the skull," I said, stopping. She grunted and came to a rock-solid halt behind me.

Slowly, I heard her shuffle, then felt her tap my heel gently. I crouched down so I could extend my arm back there and grab the little white annoyance before getting back to my hands and knees.

Phil smiled up at me, silent now that he'd gotten his way.

"It's because of Ethan, isn't it?" I asked. In the gloom, I caught a sideways glimpse of Bree's miserable nod. "...Try not to think about it."

"I'm trying."

I thought for a moment. "Um... We could talk, I guess. If it distracts you."

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. She didn't know what to think.

Emptathy filled me to my fingertips now. I knew how that felt. "Name a topic," I said, and began shuffling forward once more.

"Any topic?"

"Any topic," I reassured. I trusted her to pick a reasonable one.

There was a moment of silence as she thought. "...Okay. Tell me a story."

"What story?"

"One from your past. The Manticore. Or Phil. Or the Labyrinth. Anything but... but Gaea. Or Kronos. Anything but war business."

I let out a long breath. "...From my past?"

"Yes."

"Um... Okay. How about... How about the time I flew?"

"...Flew?"

"Yes."

"On wings?"

"On wings."

"...Okay," she said. "The time you flew on wings. That sounds interesting."

My lips twitched at the bittersweet memory. 'Interesting' was such an understatement. "Alright. I've told you that our kind usually don't train with one another, yes? In the old times, we would train with the dead, and have monthly week-long gatherings when we worked together and shared news and showed off our battlescars, right?"

"Right," she agreed. In my hands, Phil's grin grew wider. As a way to humor myself, I placed the little glowing eraser inside and let it shine out through his eye sockets. It worked quite well.

"So," I went on as Phil and Intuneric lit the way, "that's what I did. In the Labyrinth. I lived in there for six months before it was destroyed. It let me travel across the country in minutes. Of course, I never knew where I'd end up, but I came to appreciate that fact. New graveyards meant new ghosts. And of course there was the summoning ceremony that'd work long-distance. I trained with demigods past. Amelia Earhart, George Washington, Billy Mays, Harriet Tubman, Alcapone. Achilles stopped by to yell at me once. Oh, and Harry Houdini. He's a nice guy - you should meet him sometime. Anyway, there was one mentor in particular who I was fond of. And he was fond of me. He'd follow me around everywhere the sun didn't. In the tunnels, under the stars, in the shadows. Often times, he stood guard while I slept. And he was great at navigating the Labyrinth."

"Who?" Bree asked, a natural question. She cursed as her hand slipped again.

The ghost's name felt like ice on my tongue. His face was clear in my mind now, an image I knew'd haunt me for days to come. She had asked the question like he was a hero, like he was someone to honor.

"...His name was Minos. King Minos, the King of Crete."

She fell silent, listening.

The words brought back memories to me. All the days and nights, the changing of the moon as time wore on and the whispers of the tunnels behind me. The threat of demons. The king's soothing voice. "Minos..."

Minos what? I knew I couldn't lie to Bree. I'd proven that when I'd told her of Gaea.

But there was no way I'd tell her the whole truth. It was too complicated to explain. And painful beyond compare.

"Minos promised me something wonderful one day. I was a young demigod with more power than I knew what to do with and so many ghosts, so much information I was cramming. And Minos had never wronged me before. So I followed him and did what he asked. He said he'd lead me to happiness one day. I... And I wanted it. So badly."

I paused, remembering the passion that'd burned like wildfire. Painful. Powerful. "I listened to what he said. He taught me a ritual that'd give me what he promised. But before we could cast it, Percy's quest in the Labyrinth went wrong. Minos told me that it had. And it did. We dropped what we were working on and ran to help. As we ran, he said that the ritual would help Percy and Annabeth and the others. He made sure I had it memorized. He... He put me where he wanted me, I guess."

From Bree, there was silence. Phil was enjoying his new rainbow vision and wasn't listening, anyway.

"...Before I knew it, he'd run me straight into a trap. He'd struck a deal with one of Kronos's demons. I was the price he would pay. He met with an empousa and a few others - a small attack force - and together they put me in chains. He told them that they could only have me once I'd completeed the ritual.

"I remember asking him, 'What ritual? What are you talking about?' They just yanked on my chains and dragged me through that stupid maze. I could hear more monsters behind me. I... I was scared. Terrified. Any demigod has it written in stone inside him; monsters are bad. Demons are bad. It's what keeps us alive. And I was young enough to still be scared of the mythical one under my bed, let alone real ones. It wasn't until then that I realized I'd not been betrayed but raised like a cow for the slaughter. He'd had this deal in mind all along. Minos was one of the very demons I feared."

Behind me, Bree swallowed thickly.

"It was... a humbling experience," I muttered.

"I can imagine," she whispered.

"Anyway, they dragged me to the heart of the maze, to Daedalus's workship. Daedalus, Minos's prisoner and the creator of the Labyrinth way back in Ancient Greece, had cheated death. He lived on in an automaton. In a machine. And machines can break down, but they don't... They don't ever die. That's one of the reasons I don't like them. He had been undercover at Camp and aided Luke in his quest to get the string that'd lead the Titan army through the maze and to Camp, which led to the Battle of the Labyrinth. But Minos didn't care for the aid he'd given Kronos.

"Minos wanted what Daedalus had. Life. There, before Percy and Annabeth and their friend Rachel and the man who'd run from Thanatos for thousands of years, Minos told me what his plans were. He'd taught me... The wrong ritual. It wasn't the one he'd promised. It was the ceremony for raising the dead."

She was quiet for a moment. "Like... like the one you used to talk to Houdini?"

"No. For bringing them back."

She fell silent again. The nervous shuffling had stopped.

"The deal he made with Kronos's minion was that she would kill Daedalus. Together, they would force me into casting the spell that'd use the energy of a fugitive soul's death and bring Minos back to life. And as a reward, the demon could have me for Kronos's armies. She didn't know my full worth yet - that I was a child of the Big Three - but he had full intention of telling her once he was alive again and out of her reach. So at his command, the demons charged Daedalus.

"Percy and Annabeth fought, too. They were in the crossfire and looked like a nice snack, so they had no choice but to fight the demons that were killing the man who'd betrayed them. Mrs. O'Leary, who belonged to Daedalus before he gave her to Percy, also helped out. And Daedalus wasn't helpless. The workshop exploded into utter discord. You can't just cram all those monsters and demigods into such a small space.

"Minos decided to help out, too. Being one of the Judges, he had some power over the dead, and definitely over the souls of his fallen soldiers. He called to them. 'Come to me! I am the Ghost King!'"

"But that's what Shane called _you," _Bree protested.

"Hold on, I'm getting there," I muttered, rubbing my wrists absently. "In the midst of all the fighting, I'd been forgotten. The chains hurt, but remember, I'd trained with Houdini. I wrestled with them for a good minute before I finally got them off. I was almost too late.

"Almost. But I stood and managed to reverse the soldiers' accent. Minos resisted. We were locked in a battle for dominance. For a moment, I was scared I wouldn't win. He was ages old and had authority behind him and me... Me, just a kid who was lost and misled and still scared out of his mind by monsters. But somewhere I found resolve. Maybe I'd just been let down one too many times and wouldn't stand for it again. I don't know. But out of nowhere, he was so... insignificant. His spell was easy to squish. Like he was a bug. And I wasn't scared anymore."

Bree was silent. The tension in the air now had nothing to do with fear.

I shifted nervously under her intense gaze. "I sent him and his followers back to the Underworld. Meanwhile, Daedalus managed to escape, and Percy, Annabeth, and Rachel had killed off the monsters. As well as set the workshop on fire. We had to get out, and fast. I don't know whose idea it was. But Rachel had out of nowhere grabbed an invention off the walls and was strapping it to my back and my arms. I was tired from fighting Minos and didn't really notice what it was until she was done.

"It was a pair of wings. Silver feathers interlaced like the real deal, attacked to leather straps that had wax seals and were bound to my back and arms. The feathers of a bird but the attachments of a bat. I turned around, and everyone had them on, and they were all jumping out the window without second thought. With the place filled with smoke, I had no other choice. I followed.

"It took me a minute to get a hold of the wings, and Percy even longer. But the workshop was on a small tower on the side of the mountain, and we had room to experiment. Eventually, I felt the wind gather beneath me, and...

"...I flew."

Silence.

"...Is that the end of it?" she asked eventually.

I shrugged. "Well, we landed, I guess. But that's it. Why?"

"...Seems like a lot to go through for such a short flight."

"That it does," I murmured, reflecting on how true that was. Beneath me, Phil was making a light clacking noise each time the hand that held him lowered to the floor.

"Thanks for sharing," Bree told me quietly. "It was a nice story."

I hesitated, not sure at all what she meant by that. Much less how to respond. _A nice story?_

I had felt that passion once. I'd felt the fear and the betrayal and the resolve hard and cold and merciless as Stygian iron. I had lived it. I'd felt the cuffs cut into my wrists and the exhausting pull of magic and the exhileration of being free... Of not being scared, for just a moment... Of turly flying...

"...It's a story," I managed, and kept going.

She didn't hesitate with the next question. "Could you tell me another?"

What, was she actually enjoying this? "...Alright. Pick one."

"Well, my next choice was the 'Ghost King' story, but that was already answered... Hm... I know! The Manticore!"

"Um, pick a different one."

"Oh? Okay. Um... You said you'd been to Camp once. Before you knew you were a Son of Hades. Tell me something from that."

Oooh, _that. _ These memories were just as strong. I laughed at them, shaking my head. "Stories from Camp? They're all about Connor and Travis."

"Connor and Travis?"

"Two brothers, Sons of Hermes. They were the only ones aside from me in their cabin over the winter. Pair of theives and jokesters. Can't take anything seriously. They watched over me while I was there. All those stories" - all the stories from then I was willing to tell, for there were more than just happy ones - "are about the things they tricked me into."

"Like what?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

"They got me to play poker once. And another time, they snuck ice cream into my shorts. And once, they convinced me to steal from the camp store. And then there was the time we planted sparklers in the Hephaestus cabin..."

I stopped, for she was laughing now.

"Tell me about the sparklers," she gasped through her hysterics. "Hunter could use the material."

Giving Hunter ideas? The thought was so rediculously dangerous that it brought a smile to my face. "Okay. Sparklers it is. So one night, I asked them how forges were used, and they said, 'We were just headed that way! Why don't you come along? We'll help each other, how about that?' And I..."

And I talked.

She had some very interesting insights. One in particular about not just putting sparklers inside their inventions and all over the floors but up on the roof, too, to add raining fire to the chaos. Praise for their escape route.

Next I told her about the time we'd stolen one of Chiron's records just to discover the music was horrible, anyway. And then about how they'd cheated me time and time again at poker. Then how I'd taught them Mythomagic, and _still _lost to their card tricks. About how I found out and beat them sorry in a real match.

To my surprise, I was enjoying it. I didn't often visit my past. But these were the happier memories. One of the few I had. And in reality, they were interlaced with something so much darker, but I didn't have to say that painful part out loud. We just talked about the Stoll brothers. About the good things.

I'd always be plagued by the unspoken darker things, about the inner demons and horrible suspicions and the reason I was alone with them at Camp, but it was nice to see that she wasn't, at least.

We stopped once and flopped roles - she told me the story of one of the pranks Hunter had pulled on her father, the classic tape-in-the-doorway trick. Trying to imagine anyone getting the best of the Titan in that way was enough to make me chuckle. Neither of us mentioned what we knew her punishment for it had been.

Afterwards, I was in the middle of detailing the Stoll's escapade in the strawberry gardens, the one when they'd sprayed enough weedkiller on the fertilizer to destroy the entire Lair of the Lotus Eaters. I stopped to look under my arm at her again. A smile was not her default expression, but I saw one playing on her lips as I spoke.

Then, rather suddenly, the ground vanished from beneath me. No rock appeared beneath Phil and my fingers to hold my weight. I yelped and scrambled backwards, desperate to find solid ground again, but I'd gone too far. I felt my weight drop and the momentum pulled me forward, away from Bree. I yelled a warning and, in a last, desperate effort, reached out with my hands to catch something.

But there was nothing to grab; they flailed through dark, empty air, the light vanished, and I tumbled into blackness.

oOo

**Nyx: Okay so this is a wicked long chapter but I am SO happy with it.**

**Nic: That cliffhanger kinda came out of nowhere...**

**Nyx: Yes well it'll make sense in the next chapter. Oh, wait... Today is Monday. Next update is Thursday. So the readers have to wait an extra day for more.**

**Nic: Ah, I see. You're cruel.**

**Nyx: Yes, yes I am. It makes me feel like a professional.**

**Nic: Careful. Mad readers might not review.**

**Nyx: Ah... I'm hoping that they will. Reviews are very much appreciated. Oh, and pls don't be mad. My computer won't be back until Thursday, either. *grumble* you should know that I have no control over this. Believe me, I'd love to have it back. But don't worry. The moment I do, the cover'll be coming along much faster than it has been. It is more complicated than Rebels's cover was. Oh, and yes... I mentioned a reptile... On certain parts of it, yeah, I did it scale by scale. See, there is a lot of effort that goes into this.**

**Nic: Fun fact: animation is also very tedious. In **_**Finding Nemo**_**, the thirty-second scene where Nigel the pelican flies into the window took three months to animate. And that was just Nigel, not the fish or other parts.**

**Nyx: Anyway we should go. I know this one is nowhere near as good as Rebels, but hang with me. It's about to take off. Thanks for reading, guys. See ya Thursday.**


	39. Coincidences

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own PJatO or HoO. Rick Riordan still does. I don't think he's inclined to give it away.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: No problem. Dude, if my house had sufficient Internet, I'd have a Deviant Art account. But I don't. These small text files are about all it can manage. Sea of Monsters actually made me mad; they screwed with Luke's story even though they tried to correct it, the ship was ridiculously small, and they basically replaced Ethan's role with Chris. REALLY?! COULDN'T GIVE THE GUY AN EYE PATCH?! Gah. And they ruined all the sub plots. I think I already mentioned The Titan's Curse coming out 2015…? Man, they couldn't even get the story of Kronos being overthrown right! They had to change it so Percy could be a big bad in-the-footsteps-of-my-father Mary Sue! It was going so well in the beginning, but…**

**X/ See I told you it made me mad. Sorry. On with the chapter. Oh, and interesting fanfiction idea. Wonder how it'd change the story.**

oOo

So well all know that no day is perfect. There are good days. There are bad days. There are… _special _days.

And there are the days when irony decides you resemble a delicious plate of chips and salsa.

Silence is usually comforting to me. But today, sacrificing comfort was necessary. It provided the distraction I'd been dying for. And boy, was I enjoying it.

I felt a different fear, the fear of the mind-reading maze and shifting tunnels and literal demons stalking along behind. I felt the sting of betrayal and the hard, merciless resolve. I could relate to some of it; the short time I'd spend in the maze, the moment when I'd finally turned on Kronos. At times, I could hear the clack of my shoes on the Labyrinth's floor and feel the cuffs biting into my hands. What a lovely adventure, honestly. Painful and harsh but wonderful.

Nico was a very good storyteller. If not by words, but by tone.

It also made a little more sense. No, I had not lived through it with him or anything. But I felt… just a little closer. Just a little more comfortable around him. It even explained part of his antisocial tendencies, which I hadn't conflicted with much at all, anyway.

I had moved on from reveling in epic plots and battles to enjoying the little things. Cheering on Connor and Travis was a great way to pass the time. You're not worried that you'll fall to your death when you're putting itch powder in the Ares cabin's members; you're terrified they'll come in and bust you up for it.

Oh, I could still feel gravity on me. But I didn't have to pay it much mind. And I knew time was passing as we spoke – we were closer to the bottom with each syllable.

But even this I had left behind. The playful tales brought back memories of the times Hunter and I spent together. I spent a moment or two pondering her latest doubts. How I wished I could help. But, honestly, I wasn't the one who'd seen any good things in Kronos. It'd been her. I had no way to honestly, wholly convince her that she was alright.

I shoved that aside quickly and turned my attention to Nico again.

It also brought back memories of Kronos himself. He'd been one of Hunter's favorite targets. Sometimes he was understanding of it, sometimes not. And sometimes…

Sometimes we'd gotten Ethan to play along.

When irony finally decided to take a bite, I wasn't really listening to Nico or scaring myself with each little glance downwards or even longing for my sisters (more so than I usually did when we were apart.)

I was grieving.

Not even the gods knew what I'd lost that day on Olympus. Strange, that the tales of a boy he'd wanted dead and a place he hated would bring him to mind, but they did. Little things reminded me of Ethan every day now. The bitter pang of having my right side occupied by rock was in the middle of establishing itself quite firmly.

In the background noise, Phil was making a _clack clack click_ sound as Nico crawled forward. My own shuffles were louder than his for the way I still pressed myself against the tunnel's walls to create as much life-saving friction as I could. Nico's current tale I half-listened to. "And I warned them," he was saying exasperatedly. As if the brothers were right in front of him. "Some other Hermes kid would've tried it if it were safe. Or, you know, lived to tell the tale. But _nooooo,_ they were the most daring of them all. They were invincible. And guess who got vines and wheat growing all over his bunk when the army of Demeter's children stormed through the door? Not them, that's-"

Then, rather suddenly, the light vanished.

I was prepared to reach into my pocket and hand it back, as I had been doing the whole trip (Întuneric would not leave me alone, even if I willed it to), but no telltale weight appeared. The eraser hadn't returned to me. An inky blackness so thick I couldn't see my hands in front of me swooped down on us.

Not a moment later, he yelled. It started out as a small, surprised gasp and escalated to a terrified scream.

"Nico!?" I yelped, startled, as the sound echoed.

Moments later, there was the scrape and clatter of something on rocks. A cold wind drafted up from below – and reached me easily, meaning he was no longer there.

I was alone.

"Nico?!" I cried, terrified now. There weren't even any rocks to hit down here. What had…

Terror gripped my insides. Slowly, raising one trembling hand, I felt the air before me. Nothing. He really _was _gone.

At last, my savior came (no pun intended, Ethan). The familiar weight dropped into my pocket and I yelped in relief, yanking the hand back to me and ripping my eraser from its pocket so fiercely I ripped the fabric. The weak light shook dangerously in my hand and sent wild shadows spinning through the tunnel and up ahead.

"…Nico?" I rasped, this time so quiet even I could hardly hear. Slowly, inch by inch, I shuffled forward. The rock pressed painfully against my arms, but I pushed back harder, welcoming it. At least I wouldn't fall.

Fall…

He couldn't have gone far, right? I mean, this tunnel wasn't exactly roomy…

Then, before me, the light revealed a crack in the ground. I frowned. It must've been pretty wide; all that was beyond was just… black, even under Întuneric's light. Like the tunnel just… ended…

As soon as I realized, I scrambled back and gripped the walls so hard, I felt blood trail down my arms. Întuneric nearly fell from my fingers.

I'd been right. The tunnel just ended into open air.

"Nico?!" I screamed, utterly shocked. The black space ahead seemed to edge itself closer and closer. Gods, who knew how long that fall was…

I squeezed my eyes shut only to see Ethan. I whipped them open again real fast. Surely, I hadn't just lost him the same way…? "Nico! …Where… Did…"

My heart was ready to burst from my chest. Then, a rasped voice called from the impenetrable black, "…I'm here."

I'd have sagged in relief if staying tense didn't mean saving myself from the same fate. "Oh, my gods. Did you… Did you fa…"

"Fall? Nope…" he panted. "Just… Walked off the edge… like a real genius."

I groaned and hung my head. "Don't scare me like that. Are you hurt?"

"Fine!" he called. It was followed by a yelp and a curse, which wasn't real convincing.

"Hold on!" I called. "I'm gonna throw Întuneric down there to see where you are. Stay put."

"Didn't plan… on moving."

I forced myself closer, so I could see over the edge, and threw my sword, thanking the gods it was loyal enough to return to me.

It's hard to explain exactly what I saw. Yes, the tunnel opened up on a cliff face, dropping off into empty air. Ten feet beyond, though, I saw another parallel. Întuneric soared between them, throwing the shadows back up at me as it went.

Maybe twenty feet down on the opposite cliff, the dark square marking the continuation of the tunnel flashed as Întuneric went past it. Down, down, down…

Several feet below that, I saw something move on the rocks.

"I see you," I called. He was clinging desperately to the cliff beneath the tunnel entrance. How the heck he had managed to catch himself, I don't know. Maybe a rock-climbing ghost had taught it to him. Întuneric continued to drop down.

It hadn't stopped falling by the time it reached my pocket again.

I swallowed thickly. "Careful. Don't… don't fall…"

"I won't," he grunted. "Where are you?"

"Still in the tunnel. Look, the rest of it continues not that far above you. Can you climb to it?"

"Think so," he said, and I heard more shuffling on the cliff.

The noise was like nails on chalkboard to me. "Be careful!"

"No dur, smart one," he muttered. The sarcastic tone slowed my heart just a bit.

Waiting proved to side with the enemy, though. With each second I could feel gravity pulling me closer to the edge and now and then Nico would cry out, a flat-out sign that he'd lied about being fine, and honestly the sweaty palms weren't helping me. So I grabbed Întuneric and this time flung it upwards.

It sailed past the tunnel and continued rising.

I gawked up at the sight. The crevice continued upwards well out of my sight, though couldn't have reached the surface, because it was still way too dark in here. It was a giant underground hole, a great rip in the earth just beneath the skin. And it'd crossed the tunnel here, apparently.

I looked down at my eraser as it plummeted. Nico was indeed climbing, but painstakingly slow. His sword shimmered ominously in the low light, just a pinch of sleek blackness even in the light, cleaved deep into the rock for an easy handhold.

The sight of him made me frown. I had to throw Întuneric again just to be sure.

"You're favoring your right leg again," I called, as if he didn't know. He had no reply.

Minutes more, I waited. I continued to throw Întuneric as more of entertainment now, or a distraction; once, Nico slipped right as my eraser passed, a heart-wrenching sight as the foothold beneath his left foot crumbled. The light was enough to watch him scramble for another before it was up to me to guess the rest. There was shuffling a moment more, and then a hoarse, pained yell.

"Nico," I called, flinching.

"What?"

"Don't… Don't fall…"

"I'm alright. Just hit my leg. Man, the day I finally figure the brace isn't any good anymore…"

An involuntary sound slipped past my throat and I squirmed back, scraping my palms against the walls.

"Bree," Nico called softly. Crap. Nico never spoke _softly._ "I need you to do me a favor."

"…What favor?" I asked suspiciously.

"Think about something else, alright?" The dark, yawning chasm flashed by again as Întuneric took another fall for me. How I loved my sword. "Isn't it your turn to tell me a story, anyway?"

I had the sinking feeling that this was a favor for me and not for him, but my tongue fumbled for an answer. Întuneric disappeared into the black soup beneath.

"Um… Okay… How… How about… There's one, about Ethan and Kronos and this can of that squirt cheese stuff…"

"No. How about…" He paused and grunted, and there was more frantic sliding. "…Tell me one about your sisters."

His voice echoed unnaturally in the vast crevice. Like there was a demon calling back to us. I sank further into the tunnel and shook my head. "Nico…"

"Bree. I'm your mentor, right? Consider it an order. A lesson."

"…Okay… So… When-when Hunter and I were little, one day… See, we were at this foster home for the first time, and since we were the new kids, and there wasn't enough pizza for everyone to get seconds, and to top it off it was just the age where you learn 'Yo Mama' and 'Blonde' jokes, and none of us had moms, and Hunter was blonde, and I wanted pizza, and, like, this jerk of a girl made some remark about blondes wondering why they got so fat because they're too dumb to remember how much food they ate, and then Hunter got mad, and we got kicked out. The end."

There was no awkward silence and no questions and no clarification. He laughed, that laugh I'd heard when we were snowball fighting, that laugh that sounded so amazing. It was calming at first, until the echo began to overlap it. All of a sudden it became a cold, heartless chuckle.

I swear, there had to be some sort of presence here mocking us.

"Neat story," he said when the horrible sound stopped. "One more favor?"

"…Yeah?"

"Toss Întuneric at the tunnel over here, would you? I think I've found it, but I'm not sure."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank the Fates. Hold on." I threw it twice; once to see where it was and confirm he was indeed hanging just beneath the entrance, and then again to land it in the tunnel.

It was a perfect shot.

"Ah. Thanks," he said, and scrambled for it. There was another grunt as he accidentally banged his injured leg against the wall. Then, before I knew it, my eraser was tossed back to me.

I caught it gratefully and held it close before tossing it back to him. "How bad is it?" I called.

"Well," he said, throwing it across the chasm again, "I'll live. What is it Hunter says? 'Tis only a flesh wound!'?"

"That's from Monte Snake and the Quest for the Holy Grail or something," I explained as I caught the eraser. "And I'm serious."

"It'll work for crawling, which is just fine, seeing the situation we're in."

"'Just fine', my boot," I muttered as I tossed it again. "What are we going to do now? You're stranded over there."

"Noticed," he said, the shadows highlighted on his face way down there in the tunnel. "I'll just have to keep going down and pray that the door's open. I've got nectar here, but I didn't bring much. Didn't think I'd need it. But once I get there, I'll be able to talk to Father and shadow travel out."

A horrible chill ran up my spine. "And if it's shut?" Întuneric took another daring leap across the deadly chasm again. I wished I was that brave.

When I tossed it back, Nico let it fall, and didn't answer.

"Oh, my gods. Nico, no."

"Bree, don't tell me you can get across this thing. Nor create a bridge."

"Sure I can! The… the hole maybe broke the tunnel's magic…"

"Try it, and you'll blow us both to bits. Don't even bother. Look, Father's obviously left this place open for us. The door'll be open."

"Nico… You can't play the optimist…"

"I told you already, Bree; I'm only playing the desperate. And I've got experience with it." His voice radiated from a wall of darkness, echoing once more off the chasm. "You have to get back to your sisters. Fates be willing, I'll join with you soon."

"The Fates _won't _be willing!" I spat, denial turning to fury. No. No, no, no. Gravity couldn't beat me again. "You _know _that! Nico, if you get down there, and the door's shut… You won't even be able to climb back up to where you are now, will you?"

Silence.

"You'll starve to death in this stupid worm's burrow. I can't leave you to that."

"Bree."

"It'll be like falling to your death, but slower! Like… Like Ethan… He fell for so long…"

"Bree, you're hyperventilating. Calm down, okay? Listen to me."

I squeezed my eyes shut and fought back another outburst. It felt like I'd caught fire, the anger, the fear, but I held it in. I listened to the achingly calm voice in the blackness. To my raven.

"There's nothing you can do for me. If you want to play the broken and abandoned, then fine; I'll die down here alone. You can't help or stop that, whether you like it or not. So pick your sorry butt up and get over it. Go back. If you can break into the Underworld fast enough, then great, open the tunnel from the other end, and I'll be waiting. But sitting here crying over spilled milk isn't going to help. Trust me."

The words hit me like punches. There, alone in the cold dark, above a chasm and a blackness that could swallow me whole as it had to Ethan. When he didn't speak, and the echoes faded, and all was silent, I was so alone…

"Bree," he chided from well beyond my sight, as if he could read my mind.

"Are you sure the bridge wouldn't work?" I burst, grasping at something. Anything.

He sighed heavily. "Please don't draw this out, Sis. Ach! Sorry – Bree. Don't draw this out. Besides, I won't be alone. I'll have Phil."

The words felt like I'd been shot with an arrow. I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn't any better. But I wasn't sure I had the heart.

Then, solving the problem, a startled yelp came from him. "Phil! Styx! Is he up there, Bree?"

Now it was my turn. I wasn't quite sure what to say. "Nico… You had him when you fell…"

"_Phil!"_ he cried, voice shooting back at us from all sides. "Phil! Answer me!"

I heard silence. The horrible, invisible stalker in the air told me that Nico did, too. Moments later he groaned and mumbled something to himself.

"Nico… I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," he muttered. "I'm the one who went making promises I couldn't keep."

The words set off memories in my mind. Our training before the snowball fight. Something about only making promises he couldn't break.

"Aw, Nico…"

A sharp, sudden, terrifying growl cut me off. "No," he snapped. "Turn around and get the hell out of here. Right now."

The words were like knives now. "Nico… No. No. You stay right there, alright? I'll go get Hunter and Brook. I swear, I'll come back for you. Alright? Just wait here. We'll be back before you can say 'Zeus'. I promise."

Another stiff growl. "Don't you dare-"

"Nico, it's a promise I can keep. Optimists get stabbed in the back, realists never see the light in anything, and the desperate never survive. Play the pessimist for me, alright? And even the pessimist is expecting me back here. I'm not going to leave you alone. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm one-fourth human, so put up with it." My voice shook. "Just hang in there until we get back, alright? We'll bring something you can use to get across. It's going to be alright."

He was quiet for a moment. "…Bree…"

"No! You're a pessimist, remember? You expect the worst possible outcome? That's me coming back and getting you out of here. I promise. I'm not Minos. I'm not going to turn my back. Just watch! Hunter'll have a solution!" Without waiting for an answer, I pulled my sword from my pocket once more, and worked on turning myself around in the small tunnel.

I know Nico didn't trust people that often, but if anyone, he had to trust me. I knew it.

He said something else, but I wasn't listening, busy wrenching myself around. Ugh. I swear, the tunnel had been bigger a moment ago. Now my shoulders were stuck and my hip was twisted in a painful, unnatural way. And I had never exactly been a pretzel. With a grunt, I forced myself to turn just a little more…

…And got more stuck. Great.

Behind me, the darkness had swallowed Nico's voice, and silence rang out. I told myself that he was still there waiting for me, that this was my chance to save him, even after a fall. I wouldn't let the empty air and a hard landing take anything from me again. Not even my odd raven emo crazy undertaker half-brother.

At last, I managed to get my head pointed in the right direction, but my torso was killing me and my shoulders were still caught on something. Întuneric cast threatening lights and shadows on the ground up ahead but did nothing for the offenders behind me. I braced one arm against the wall to catch me when I broke free and, first pulling a foot free, gave one last jerk-

-Don't ask me what happened, but suddenly I was out.

The obstruction vanished and my feet slid on the slope, right out from under me. I crashed to the floor face-first and the tunnel seemed to grow, my failsafe vanished from my hands, Întuneric slipped from my fingers…

…And I was weightless.

I'd fallen right out of the tunnel.

I was too scared to scream. My life flashed before my eyes; mainly Hunter, Brook later on, the mess of things on Mount Othrys and blonde hair and an eye patch and a jade eye and a crooked smile and a beady-eyed raven and a harsh golden blade and the cold, hard, uncaring resolve, a very solid replacement for the illusion-like high of a battle, the retort of a gun, a black shroud and a great hole through my middle I'd never fill, my grandmother's grin and Sylvester whining for food and Scenario in my room and my half-brother's smile as we pelted one another with snow.

And my sword.

Faint rainbow light splashed across the menacing chasm, dancing across the wall and flying out on daring wings, lighting the darkness even though it was empty way out there. A brilliant, defiant firefly.

A lone rebel. A reject.

At the edge of my vision, I saw the black entrance to the tunnel, the one down below where Nico was clearly no longer waiting. My sword lit the way and, in the back of my mind, I could hear the elated, irreplaceable sound of my sisters laughing.

Instincts kicked in. Experience. Ethan's training. My conscious died and something deeper took over.

After all I'd been through, I was _not _about to give it up.

I forgot I was falling and, too desperate to know what the heck I was doing, shoved off the chasm's wall. For a moment, I was falling through the empty air, sailing out on nothing but the faith in my sword and hastily recalled memories.

And every moment, I was terrified. My fear of heights apparently went deeper than conscious thought.

I don't know when Întuneric vanished, returning to my pocket, but since it was no longer in my hands and the world went utterly black, it must have. My loyal sword vanished. It didn't leave me alone, but it vanished.

Blackness. Silence. The demon's whisper of gravity tugging on me.

And then I crashed into something. Hard. It cried out and crumpled beneath me. I tumbled with it a few feet before we slid to a stop, breathless and bruised from the impact. My head still spun as if I had yet to land.

What the hell had I just done?

"Get… off…" Nico groaned, breath tickling my ear.

Suddenly I realized _exactly _what I'd done, and what'd happened.

"Oh! Oh, Styx! Sorry!" I gasped, scrambling backwards and off of him. Întuneric found its way to my hands again. It dim light revealed him flattened on the tunnel's floor, skin pale and dark eyes glaring murderously at me.

"You could've," he spat, "at least given me a warning."

I glanced behind me. The edge of the chasm wasn't two feet uphill.

So he _had _put his faith in me…

"Did I hurt your leg?" I asked, leaning down to examine it. The light was too dim to see much of anything. Any stain that might've been spreading on his jeans was concealed by their dark color.

"No more than it already was," he muttered, peeling himself off the rocks. "What happened to getting help?"

"I, uh, slipped."

"You _slipped?"_

"Yep."

"Why am I not inclined to believe that wonderful coincidence?" he spat.

Once more, his voice echoed, shot back to us by whatever mimicking demon lurked in that horrid chasm.

"…Come to think of it, that _was _kind of crazy," I muttered, breathless. If I'd slid when I'd fallen back there, then why hadn't Nico and I slid further when we fell over here? We'd have had much more momentum together than I did alone. But the light from Întuneric kept the dark from advancing, and I was with my half-brother again. Not alone. And I wasn't about to fall down the chasm again, either.

Still, I couldn't shake the haunting feeling that we weren't ever alone down here. It had to be my fear of falling; had I not just proven how strong it was?

"Yeah. _Crazy,"_ Nico sighed. "Well, should we continue, since you're here?"

I looked once more over my shoulder at the hungry black hole and shuddered. Poor Phil. "…Yeah. The farther we get from this place, the better."

oOo

**Nyx: Well, that seems so much shorter after the wicked long chapter before it.**

**Nic: That it does.**

**Nyx: So yay I got a surprise. Got my computer back last night. Haven't worked on the cover yet (was up writing this) but since I've got a head start on the next chapter and time to SLAUGHTER most of my day will be dedicated to it. It'll blow you guys away when it's done. See, I was inspired by this wicked awesome picture of Scourge from Warriors –**

**Nic: Oh, that series.**

**Nyx: Don't care how old you are, the first series is always great. Firepaw/*spoiler*/*spoiler* isn't too bad of a Mary-Sue. You can live with it. Anyway, our poll is still tied, and PhotoShop is waiting for me. See you guys later!**

**Nic: …What…. Is this a Duck Dynasty cup?**

**Nyx: Filled with sweet tea? Oh heck yes.**


	40. Almighty

**DISCLAIMER: In case you have not noticed, Nic and Nyx are on a site called 'Fan Fiction'. They do not own PJatO and/or HoO. Rick Riordan would be the man you're looking for.**

oOo

We weren't too accepting of the 'slip' that'd brought Bree across the chasm, but honestly, I couldn't find reason enough for her to jump across and then lie to me about it.

Unless she was lying to herself as well.

But I decided against that, too. I'd known from the start just how scared she was of falling. And it made perfect sense for her to have gone and gotten help, and none for her to condemn herself to my fate. It had to have been a slip. And her instincts had taken over for the rest; that much was understandable.

But the _slip…_

I shook off my suspicions and kept crawling. The tunnel was awful silent and hostile without Phil's timely _click click clack._

The thought made me flinch. It felt like someone'd taken a branding stick to my throat and eyes. Phil, who'd stayed by me for so long. Who'd reminded me of things when I forgot. Who'd pushed me on when I didn't want to continue and saved my life and saved others and continued to do so after he died. That's how loyal Phil was.

And I'd let him down. Literally.

It wasn't exactly Bree's pain for Ethan, but it still hurt to not have him here anymore.

But I knew where he was now. I knew he was fine. I knew that hadn't really been his death back there. And pain and I were old acquaintances. I could wear it like a well-worn glove and soldier on.

This was nothing to things I had felt before.

"Nico?" a strained voice interrupted my thoughts. It brought back the dark, lurking shadows of the tunnel and Întuneric's saving light and the searing pain in my right leg dragging behind me. "Are… Are you alright? I can feel blood – you're leaving a trail. I don't know how much you've lost, but…"

I sighed. She was visibly shaking now. The adrenaline had worn off us both and now her fear was setting in again. Heavily. She knew how close she'd come to death. "Bree, I'm fine. I know the signs of severe blood loss. And I've had nectar. It'll be fine."

"I can help you back up the tunnel if the door's closed," she reasoned with herself, ignoring me. Nervous hands jumped back and forth on the rocky floor. "And I'm not hurt; we can figure out a way for me to get across, and I'll bring back help for you, just like we'd planned. You'll just have to hang in a little longer. And I won't slip this time. Won't slip. Won't slip…" She closed her eyes and squeezed her hands into desperate fists.

But there was no hand to close them around this time, not even a gun. She made a whimpering sound and pressed her palms to her temple. Muttered words, almost feverish, came from quiet lips.

Yep. She was definitely too scared to have made the jump.

"I want my sisters," she whispered to no one. The sound echoed to its lonely self. "I want my sisters."

_We have to figure out a way to get through this in one piece…_

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind did Phil's words come back to me. _Stop pretending you don't have a heart._

A heart. Gods knew that I had one once. Been scared to use it ever since.

But I'd come this far with her, hadn't I? And I had indeed panicked when she wasn't in her bed this morning. And she needed help. Why not?

A painful thing began to flood me. Pity. Sympathy. Empathy. Bree was stronger than this. I'd seen it when she fought. Heck, she'd just managed to save her life by getting over here once she fell. She'd fought Kronos and lost Ethan and saved her sisters as often as they'd saved her. Bree shouldn't be reduced to this.

And if we were about to die down here, it felt wrong to sit here in cold silence with one another. Thanatos was not going to meet this shaking, startled creature. He was going to meet the real Bree.

I stopped and wriggled as best I could in the small space, turning to look at her. She continued to mumble and stare at the ground. Tremors were shaking her from head to toe. The sight felt like a small knife in my chest.

"Bree," I whispered, praying she'd hear. "Bree, look at me."

She sniffled and looked up miserably.

"I'm not going to lie to you. We could die down here, very painfully, and very slowly if we can't get out. If the door is shut, that's actually quite likely. And to be honest, I don't know what to think of that door." Silence and wide eyes. "But look ahead of you. What's in your way? Me. Don't know if you noticed when you ran me over earlier, but I'm in the way. As long… As long as I'm here, you're not going to fall."

Shifting my weight to one hand was an odd feat, seeing as one of my legs wouldn't take weight either, but I managed to hold one out to her. She stared at it blankly.

Something twisted in my gut. "Please, Bree? I don't like to see you like this. It's not you. Just let me know that you heard."

Ever so slowly, a shy child daring to try the slide at school for the first time, she reached out her hand and grasped mine.

A smile crossed my face. "There ya go. See? I'm solid. You're not going to fall. I'll be right here."

She squeezed my hand and nodded. It hurt so much less than the mumbling she'd made earlier.

The realization felt like poison spreading through my veins. _I have something to lose now…_

I could imagine Phil smiling at the thought, in that infuriating way that said he knew better, but for the life of me couldn't figure out what he was saying.

oOo

Oh, the things one's imagination can do.

Some people's think in pretty pictures. Others create novels that last throughout the ages. Still others envision strange things hidden deep within legends and the unexplained. Things that are nice, like a child's fairytales. Other things that are much darker. And some imaginations simply don't exist.

Mine?

Oh, it works. It works.

Every time my hand lifted from the stone, I swear I could feel the open space yawning beneath me, as if I were falling into the chasm again.

It was almost like a ghost's thoughts invading mine again; whispers of horrible things and the heavy pressure of another conscious. Surely, this was not just me? This fear? Were we truly alone down here?

I stared down at my trembling hands at each step. Yes, it could very well be fear. How I hated pathetic weaknesses; you were supposed to iron those out. Instead, my slip had reinforced it…

Hunter had been so good at dispelling my demons earlier. But Hunter was not here. She was off on a dangerous quest in a dangerous place at a dangerous time to meet a dangerous person with dangerous powers and very dangerous knives, the ache on my collar bone reminded me. Hunter would not save me this time.

Apparently, Nico would.

It was a strange thing to imagine, but…

…But very believable.

Nico tried so hard to keep a straight face. Succeeded. And there were many things he honestly held no passion for; most living people, petty temporary things such as money or non-sentimental possessions, politics, complicated games, machines. All of which I had seen for myself.

But the things he did care for?

I guess it helps that he dwells among them rather than in the contradicting group. But the things he treasured he clearly felt a compulsive passion for. The dead, magic, the dead culture I didn't trust but he spoke of so often, silence. From the outside he might've been cold and uncaring, but those things revealed him to be quite an ardent individual.

And yes, I had seen plenty of proof of that for myself, as well.

It thrilled me to know him that well. I felt, I don't know, like I was five levels higher than my friends on a video game. I had reached something unknown, and something quite intriguing. Dare I say beautiful?

And this newest passion. It was in stark contrast to the looks of hate he had given me not long ago, but it was there nonetheless. You could tell by his tone when he was not kidding. When he held something in high regards and with devastating gravity.

Or, in this case, some_one._

I felt his hand squeeze mine back, saw a glimmer of hope in those black eyes, could feel his pulse through his fingers. The cold wind from the chasm still blew in and raked its wispy claws along my spine, the darkness was suffocating, and the pull of gravity like a demon with its teeth sunk in and gently pulling me aside.

But there was Nico.

There was that glimmer of hope and the gentle pressure of his fingers and, this close, the edge of his breath playing with the fringes of my side bangs. Warmth radiated from him. The sincerity of his voice seemed to echo still throughout this tunnel; I still heard it in my mind.

_As long as I'm here, you're not going to fall._

Great gods of Olympus, he could've told me the moon was made of cheese, and so long he spoke in that tone, I'd believe him.

That's how passionate he was. You just had to be smart enough to see it.

"There you go," he whispered, closing his eyes. Every syllable rang with the utter clarity of simplicity; it screamed of the one thing I honestly had decided against possibility;

That he cared.

The fact did wonders.

His eyes opened slowly, just a sharp reflection of Întuneric's faltering light. Nothing more. A slight ray of light in the concealing shadows. "It's going to be okay. As far as the risk of falling goes." I could hear the smile in his voice.

Slowly, I nodded. The demon still tugged. But he was asking me to put my trust in him and ignore it. It was not something I did easily. Yet I something in my gut and something somewhere kept secret even from me did it without question.

"Are you alright?" he asked, squeezing my hand again.

I swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. I think so."

Slowly, he let go and turned away into the darkness, and began to shuffle forward once more.

_He's still there. I won't fall,_ I told myself, and started after him.

Phil's idle noises had been replaced by the heavy rasp of Nico half-dragging his leg along behind him. The wind blew. My last hopes radiated from him. Hunter was still on my mind.

"I wonder what Shay's like," I mused into the inky shadows.

"With Hunter around? She's as obedient as a little Chihuahua," Nico chuckled. The image would've made me laugh if we hadn't once said the same of Kronos and Ethan.

On we went. The ground behind him was now and then tainted by the thinnest layer of a warm, sticky liquid I was glad I couldn't see. The wind was howling now; its own sad echoes seemed to sing much like the Manticore's musician ally. It was a constant companion.

As we went, we continued to talk. But it was about small things now. The kind of conversation we could've had anywhere. And only us, for Nico wouldn't dare let his tightly-knit guard down before many. We talked about the cinnamon rolls and the clouds and our favorite rocks.

"I like cobalt," I said. "It's like a dark blue. Very interesting color. Dark but inviting and kind of like a cat."

"A cat?" he asked, stifling a condescending retort at the odd notion.

"Yes. Cats sit there like they know more than you do. They're very smart, cats. Or think they are. They're withdrawn and dignified and act very wise."

"Cats have a… reputation for it, I guess," he mused. "They're clever things. Legend says they can easily tread between the world of Living and the Underworld. Simple as sneaking in and out of a house for a nice midnight mouse."

"Oh?" I said, thinking of Dr. Thorn. "Do you know of any cats?"

"I'm sure I could name a few," he said in a smug tone that said he'd hold those few over my head for a few years to come.

From there we found our way to clouds again. And from that;

"Clouds. Psh. Who needs them? You got plenty of star-blocking without them here," I muttered.

"Hm?"

"The lights from the city. I can't see the stars."

"…And this bothers you?"

"Of course. The stars are… stars. They belong in the skies. They're there above Mount Olympus and Mount Othrys alike. What right do the humans have to… To drown them like that? Don't they notice? It sticks out like a sore thumb, the lack of stars."

"That's it?" he said, sounding slightly amused.

I sighed, knowing that tone well. "I guess there's more?"

Behind me, I swear I heard laughter. I edged closer to him.

"Well," he said, "the stars are… I guess… Their own league. They're a record of things past and a map of the sky and, later in history, of the world. And the constellations are their own miracles. The stars hold more secrets than we'll ever know."

There it was, that wonder and almost devastating gravity. Eager to extend my map of him, I said, "Really?"

"Yep. I had a mentor who taught me of the stars. I didn't really pay them much mind until the Labyrinth was destroyed, but they mean a lot more to me now. More specifically, the constellations. Such power that we've all thrown out of our reach in hopes of happiness and bitter revenge alike. Some of the dead are up there."

Ah. There was the connection. "Like what?"

"Well, the most recent constellation is a girl named Zoe." There was a moment of silence. "Artemis placed her there after she died so that she could forever hunt whatever things she might find in the night skies."

"You talk like… Like you knew her."

"Not really. I was introduced to her, but she was more like a friend of a friend."

"…Oh," I said, not really expecting it to be true. Suddenly I realized that this might not be the happiest subject for him.

But he was talking and he liked it and hearing his voice strengthened my beacon of security. "What about the other things? The, er, non-dead things?"

"There's a lot of them," Nico agreed. "Hm… There's a tribute to Hercules and Pegasus. And there are two bears – once people – who were saved from death by being placed up there. Hera cursed them so that they could never set below the horizon. And there's Canis Major and Minor; the dog Laelaps and the Teumessian Fox, in respective order. The dog destined to always catch its prey and the giant fox that could never be caught. One day, someone decided that he could catch the fox with Laelaps. They chased each other for days and nights. Zeus found the predicament rather amusing but sad, so he put them in the stars as a way to end it. Though Laelaps still chases the fox across the skies. That's why some legends report him turning them to stone instead, but in reality, they were put in the stars. You can see them every night."

An apologetic tone took over now. "Well. Not here, but they're there."

"Determined dog," I muttered.

"Determined fox," he countered.

"Any others?" I asked. The air was growing colder as we spoke. Yes, yes, there was something down here… closer still I edged to him.

"Ah… I believe Egyptian mythology has some constellations, too; all representations of their gods and goddesses. But they have a goddess of stars and it kind of kills the effect."

Curiosity spiked through me now. "What? Thousands of deities, and Greek mythology doesn't have a god of stars?"

"There are some who claim their realms overlap them," Nico mused. "Morpheus, for one. But do you see them interfering with them?"

Silence.

"No," he answered his own question. "The truth is that no one knows what it's like up there. What they see and what they feel. And there is no way to find out. No way to speak to them or come back once they're there. They're the stars; nothing but a distant world we will only ever get hints at. A world that connects us to the past. Like the dead, but more withdrawn."

I was busy thinking about that. The stars; a map to the present and shining, almighty links to our history. I had never thought of them to be _that _important.

Then I realized that I had understood his connections.

"I'm beginning to understand crazy," I murmured to myself, quite pleased with the fact.

The stars – the map – to him were becoming clearer and clearer.

oOo

Whatever was following us, it didn't make itself known. We made it to the bottom of the tunnel without any more problems.

"I can feel it," Nico murmured, licking his lips. "Can you?"

I frowned. "Um, not yet."

Soon enough I did, though. A buzzing in my mind and every cell. An achingly sweet taste flooding my tongue. My heart began to race in pre-installed excitement.

Yes, it was close. I could tell.

"Does this mean it's open?" I whispered, not having to specify 'this'. No doubt he felt it too.

"I don't know," he said, and began to move faster.

"Careful!" I called. "Your leg!"

From behind, I could feel the increasing static of something coming closer. When a glance over my shoulder revealed a terrifying nothing, I whipped back around and raced after my half-brother. The rock burned on my hands as I pressed against it to keep from falling.

Always to keep from falling.

Ahead, there was a yelp and a thud. "Found the bottom!" Nico cried.

How relieved I was when I reached him. One more glance over my shoulder proved nothing in sight.

I wasn't sure if that was comforting or not.

"What now?" I asked nervously, grabbing his good ankle for reference.

"It keeps going straight," Nico replied. "I guess we follow it." And off he set again.

"Determined dog," I sighed. Then I began to follow. "And a determined fox."

He came to a stop real fast.

"There's a door," he warned. Sure enough, I could see Întuneric's light dancing on a surface before him. He sat awkwardly on his good leg and, hunched beneath the tunnel roof, began to fiddle with some knob I couldn't see.

I held my breath, waiting. It didn't matter that I couldn't go through it regardless.

The door swung open.

"Yes!" Nico cried, and disappeared through it.

Too late, I realized that this meant I was alone. The small black square sat daringly before me – _go ahead! Try and get through!_ – and from behind… From behind…

Despite being on low, solid ground, my head began to spin. I did not like this tunnel anymore.

"Nico?" I called into the blackness that'd swallowed him. Anything could lay beyond, as far as I could see. "…Are you in the Underworld?"

His head popped out through the doorway, making me jump back. On his face was a smile. "Nope. It's my closet."

This didn't make much sense to me. "Um…"

"Come on; it's alright. Let me show you."

The phrase was becoming familiar with him. Eager to leave behind whatever haunted that dreadful snake's burrow, I shuffled through the door.

Beyond, Întuneric revealed a small cavern that seemed miles long after the cramped space in the tunnel. I groaned and stood, stretching and feeling the bones pop. Yes, there was enough room to stand; it was a small, egg-shaped thing of dark, rough rock and some mysterious clear liquid dripping down from the center of the curved roof. Big for a closet. Along the walls, rugged hollows had been scooped out. In them were little miracles. The tunnel's wooden door was swung open, revealing naught but a small dark spot; one'd never have thought there was a path to the surface from here. Across from it, a normal, person-sized door watched us stoically.

"See," Nico explained as I reached down to help him up, "you can't eat food from the Underworld. You'll get stuck there. So I had this closet made. It's technically not part of Hades – just this little pocket of space next to it and unprotected and unable to host spirits. So I can store food here. More importantly…"

"Nectar and ambrosia," I finished as, together, we made our way toward said supplies. There was a whole eighth of the cavern's surface area dedicated to them. Endless little bags and bottles gleamed happily in my earser's light without a speck of dust to show for their time here.

Nico quickly stole a canister of nectar from their ranks and swallowed three mouthfuls. When he finally came up for air, he closed his eyes blissfully. "Ugh. That's better."

"At least you learned from your mistake and didn't walk into the door," I offered, which was more than I could say for myself. There were a few chips on the apartment entrance in Oswego that Hunter swore I'd never live down.

Knowing me all too well, he sent a sly smile my way. "Jealous?"

"Of that leg? Not really."

He rolled his eyes and took as much more as he dared before slowly leaning away from me, one hand on the wall, and tested his injured leg. The foot seemed to move okay. When it did, he placed it on the ground and leaned on it.

He cursed quietly. "Well. It'll work." He slipped the nectar onto his chain belt and limped over to the tunnel's entrance, shutting the door firmly. "You good in here for a few hours?"

"Yes," I sighed, thankful the tunnel was over. The items on the shelves continued to catch my eye; dehydrated food packs, water, a couple extra Stygian iron daggers.

"Never occurred to me there'd be a tunnel here," Nico mused as he crossed the cavern. "This door ought to open right into my room in Erebos. Father never mentioned enabling a passage from here to the surface. It _has _to be something he made just for us, and recently."

He licked his lips nervously and hesitated, not wanting to jinx the rest of the thought.

_And what else for but to let us in? The door has to be open._

He sent me a questioning glance then, nothing but Întuneric-lit flecks and dark shadows and the glint of pleading eyes. He didn't move.

I shrugged, suddenly nervous. "Well, er… You don't need my permission, do you?"

He laughed nervously. "No. 'Guess not." Then, before he could change his mind, he put a hand on the gleaming knob.

For a moment, fear caught in my throat. It clicked angrily at us and refused to turn with a flick of his wrist. He grunted and changed his angle, pushing the door back and then turning it, working around some flaw.

I all but groaned in relief. It was merely an old door with a funny little quirk, and one he knew how to work.

The door clicked at us again, frustrated.

He sighed and tried again. It gave us the same bullheaded response.

A frown crossed his face as he gave it yet another go. The door's retort was almost furious now, a heavy thud that reminded me of a body hitting pavement.

Getting frantic, Nico tried it again, but faster. The door didn't budge.

It leaked into the air like gaseous poison; a sneaking suspicion; a virus slowly multiplying into something you can't ignore. The idea that it wasn't just an old door's ails.

I could literally feel it, the moment my hopes finally died. It was in time to another of the door's lifeless thuds.

It was locked.

oOo

**Nyx: Okay so I don't have much time. Bottom line is yay, new chapter. Please do review. Tell us what you think of this very non-cliffhanger.**

**Nic: Kind of the bottom line every update, right?**

**Nyx: Now, I know you guys don't want to hear this, but the cover is gonna have to be put on hiatus again. I know, I know, and I didn't exactly want to, but I don't have a choice. Hm… How to say this without revealing my age… Well, I'll just inform you that it has something to do with education, and I'm not going to give it up. So the cover will just have to be late.**

**Nic: I can assure you guys that the above is true.**

**Nyx: So yeah sorry about that. The poll is still tied. Oh, and yes, we'll be back on Monday as planned. Until then, later.**


	41. Magic Tricks

**DISCLAIMER: No, no, no! I told you people not to listen to the cat! …Oh? You didn't?**

**Good.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: No, CBEs. Long and very information-disclosing story. SO eager to get them over with and start my new class, but there's a crap ton of reading requirements. Adding it on to my current hectic schedule is hard. Hence the late update.**

oOo

It took Nico much longer to reach the same conclusion.

He began to mutter something about dust caught in the knob's mechanisms – stupid machines – and jerk more roughly on the door.

"Nico," I warned, but my voice was soft and I was at loss for what else to say.

It wasn't enough to stop him. He stared at the knob and only broke that gaze to glance at the wooden door itself, like it might hold the answers. The phlegmatic mask might've fooled me once, before I knew him, but it didn't now.

"Nico," repeated, this time daring to step closer. But what was there to say? It was locked, like we'd feared; so what? We'd been preparing for it.

But that look of indifference screening his eyes did not fool me. Something immense and unstable was boiling just behind it.

I hated that. It gave me the burst of confidence to cross the room and stop at his side. "Nico, leave it."

"No," he rasped, shaking his head. "Look, it has to open, alright? Why else would the tunnel be here? Straight from our refuge to _my room._ He must want us down there."

"Nico… I don't know why it's this way, but…"

"No. It'll open," he insisted, yanking on the door faster this time.

I didn't like this. It pained me, even, to see the boy from the snowball fight and the boy who'd charged a winged drakon reduced to this. It pained me to see _Nico _reduced to this.

"Don't… Look, Nico, it's not like…"

"_Don't lecture me!"_ he burst suddenly enough to make me jump. "I don't need it!"

"…But look at the door…"

"No! It'll open!" he yelled. But his voice shook. It was a relief to me; I knew that this madness was almost over. At last.

I waited at his side for a minute more as he continued to insist to himself. His voice broke and he began to speak in a broken, uncertain pattern. "No. He'd open… There's not any reason…"

I debated reaching out and touching his shoulder. Wasn't sure if he'd notice. Or if he'd turn around and, panicked as he was, smack me across the face. With his sword.

Another desperate pull on the knob brought the brass sphere off in his hand. His current deranged mumble cut off and he stared at it, all wide eyes and carefully measured breaths.

"No.. There's no reason…" My heart sank as he started again, slowly, he knelt, and reached one tentative hand for the door's innards. I got to my knees beside him. "…To torture me like this…"

An angry pink light flared from inside the knob's abandoned place, buzzing and sending a flurry of sparks to burn his hand.

The screen in his eyes died and the smallest crack appeared in his mask, where his lips twitched and parted just slightly. His hand dropped to his lap and stayed there. He quit talking altogether.

I sighed and put that arm around his shoulders, sure it was safe now. "…I'm sorry, Nico."

One tentative hand raised itself and flatted its palm against the wooden door. A cry for help? A farewell?

"I don't understand," Nico rasped. His eyes opened to reveal not even a hint of tears. But I knew. I knew.

"Neither do I," I admitted, "but it is what it is."

"Don't. Lecture. Me."

I fell silent and stared at the floor.

He sighed and took his hand back. There was another moment of silence, of him shaking and me wishing I could've said something to ease his pain, before he stood abruptly.

"Come on," he said. The stolid mask was back and he spoke without the passion that'd captivated me earlier. "Let's get out of here. The dead will just have to fair without their prince for a while. We're no good to anyone here." He turned and, as if it'd never mattered to him, strode to the small tunnel entrance.

I stared after him, somewhat shocked. But ultimately… sad. That he'd file away his pain and force upon himself that mask. No, no, I couldn't let him leave something so important here in this room to grow dust and mold and be forgotten.

"Nico…"

"Come on, Bree. You go in first. I'll be behind you."

"Nico, you can speak your mind to me. You don't have to hide it."

He fixed me under a furious glare. "Speak my mind? Alright. Here's one thing; I'm not hiding anything. To you or to myself. Father can play whatever games he wishes. I am done having faith in him, and it's because he's apparently wished it so. I'm going to head back up there and continue fighting for my sake and the sake of the dead. But as far as Father, he has made his own thoughts clear. And there is no way into the Underworld from this room. I have no further use here and neither do you. Now let's go."

"That's not what I meant."

He continued to glare, too furious to speak.

"Nico… You're upset."

"No freaking dur."

"Just… Just don't pretend…" I sighed and stood, figuring I might as well listen to him to prove my obedience. "Just don't pretend it doesn't hurt, alright?"

He snorted. "Believe me, I haven't ever thought that it wouldn't hurt."

The trip back up was relatively quiet.

I could hear him shuffling along miserably behind me. Going through the motions. Pain seemed to radiate from him like light does from the sun.

But he soldiered on without a word. His mind was hard at work, daring to push forward through this mess. Searching for answers and finding a way to cope.

Minos's betrayal must've been a good briefing for this.

The tunnel was cold and I could still hear its threatening whispers, but I did not speak. I understood very well the benefits of silence and solitude. He was in no mood to talk, and if it'd help him…

…I'd bear with it.

Every inch of me was shaking. Fear was constricting my lungs so that it was impossible to breathe in the cold air, anyway. There _had _to be something actually here with us. It watched, it waited, and it knew that those two things alone could beat us.

That we were already done for.

How badly I wished for Ethan. If we were alive, that meant he'd never fallen, and I didn't have to be scared… And even if I was, he had never feared heights, so he would offer help… Just as much as Hunter, even…

"Are you okay?"

I yelled and jumped at the voice, then, terrified at what I'd done, dug my nails into the sides of the tunnel. "Gods! Nico, _quit doing that_!"

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. His voice was taught; weary but under control. "So, um…"

"Yes, I'm alright," I breathed, relieved that it wasn't gravity's embodiment come to destroy me. "…You?"

He sighed heavily. "I'll be fine."

"You don't sound like it. I'm guessing you haven't sorted out your thoughts entirely yet?"  
"No," he muttered. "I'm…"

"It's alright. You can tell me."

"I'm not sure I should. I'm torn between hating him, and hating myself. On one hand, had I not seen it coming? There's always risks when someone else is involved. On the other, he… He was the exception to that rule. And I was the exception to his. We knew it was a dangerous world and we were both afraid to put any sort of faith in anyone. And for various reasons. But we both also trusted each other. Yet again… Even that… Shouldn't I have been smarter? Should I have avoided any exception?" A mirthless chuckle bubbled past his lips. "I'm spinning in circles."

The control part of his tone had vanished, and the now obvious strain felt like soured water in my throat. Some part of me was mildly surprised – when had I begun to care for him so much? The rest of me didn't really care to answer that question. And all of me wished that there was something I could do.

"And underneath it all…" he went on, voice lowering as if someone might overhear. "…I still wonder. Even if he wanted to betray me, why… Why this tunnel? It's nothing but a waste of time and energy for him. And unnecessary pain to us. To me. It still doesn't add up. I tell myself that's just 'cause I can't read a social situation right, but… Something just isn't straight…"

Rather than feeling relieved that he felt the same way I did, it just worsened the ominous presence hanging around. "Don't worry. I've been thinking the same thing. Something's really off down here. There's probably a lot we don't understand. Dad… maybe Dad has nothing to do with it."

But of course I couldn't play the optimist well. He fell silent, clearly not believing it.

I wished he'd talk again. He didn't speak with passion when he'd been wounded. Eventually I decided that the truth ought to come out no matter what. "Thanks… for sharing. When you weren't sure if you should."

I could imagine his shrug. "Well. If it kills me, it kills me. Thanatos has been rather distant, despite all odds," he mused.

That enticed me to fall silent, too.

After another five minutes in the cold hostility of the tunnel, he muttered something under his breath. "Are you sure you're okay? You're shivering."

"It's cold," I muttered. "I'm alright."

"If you'd like another story, I could tell one."

"Nico…"

"I'm fine with it, honestly. What happened down there is between myself, myself, and Father. Not you."

He said it in a tone that made me believe he was trying to convince himself of it. Well, I guess it'd help if I acted like it was true…

"Okay. Um… Oh! I got one! Tell me what you did to make Persephone change you into a dandelion."

"Oh, by the gods," he muttered under his breath. "That's a long story."

"Give me a summary, then."

He thought for a moment, leaving me to wait and watch Întuneric's faded light dance on the uneven rock face. This would make a nice waterslide, save the chasm, come to think of it…

"Alright," Nico said eventually. "She seems really nice when you first meet her. Percy thinks of her as one of the most likable immortals ever. Father likes to toy with any Living person who wanders into his realm, especially demigods, because they tend to get big heads on the whole 'hero' thing and 'I survived Hades!' while in reality if you shot them with an arrow, they'd die just like any mortal, but Persephone… She believes all demigods deserve a chance. She tends to keep him in check when he gets sadistically excited."

"Sadistically excited," I muttered.

"If some poor kid went picking through your stuff at school, what would you do?" Nico asked.

"Oh, I wouldn't have to do anything," I corrected. "I keep a ton of things in there. Kids like to shun me because I wear black and hang to myself, right? And there's of course rumors about gothic and emo kids having funky religions." We both laughed at that. "So I have a bunch of weird 'ceremonial' stuff in there. An upside-down pentagram, candles, a list of things that's really just runes, a healing spell of Brook's with 'Temporary Curse Lifter' written on the top, a ton of dark fortunes from fortune cookies, and this little toy camera that looks totally legit, like it's actually filming. It _totally _freaks out the locker thugs."

"You seem to be excited about their troubles," Nico mused smugly.

"I know! It's fun to watch trespassers squirm… Oh. I see. Point taken."

"Yeah," he said, and I could hear him biting his tongue. "Anyway, she has that sort of reputation. Strong, optimistic, warm-hearted damsel in distress. Forced to spend half her immortal life in the Underworld. You can pity her or cheer her on. Whatever. But the truth? Her patience is paper-thin. Especially with Father's children. And to be honest? She loves him. Might I remind you that she was afraid of hurting his feelings when Hermes can to retrieve her the first time, and that's why she asked his permission to leave before he offered her the pomegranate. She finds the dead annoying now and then and they have the ups and downs of every immortal couple. But she's totally supportive of him. His sword? That big deadly thing you saw in Manhattan? She made that for him. She sides with him in all his arguments with Zeus. She's not exactly what she seems."

"You don't approve?" I guessed.

"Oh, I have no problem of her relationship with Father. They are a married couple, and if she was unhappy at all, she's managed to make it all work for her. That's all great. It's the prejudice against our kind that I can't stand. We're all good-for-nothing spawns of sirens and nothing but problems for her and Hades, even if he can't see it. And she likes to make a point of dissing my mother in front of me." Real anger boiled in his voice now. "So it goes without saying that we tend to fight a lot. One day, we were going at it, and she brought up my mom. We… I don't remember my mom at all. But I know what she stood for in life and what she believed in. So when Persephone started going off about her lying and deciding she'd judge my father as a fool and playing him not once but _twice _and pulling his heart strings and treating him like crap and not even caring that he was married, I got mad. I told her that he was all hers now, because after her yapping and the things he went through after Mom died – things she turned her back to because she thought he deserved it after cheating on her – that he'd never get with another woman again, so she could go suck pomegranates all she wanted now and get out of my face."

I froze. "You said _what?_ To an immortal?"

"Yeah… It wasn't all that smart…"

"_Sanctum vaccam!_ And you claim not to believe in luck! She's liable to have shot you dead right then and there!"

"Death? For me? Oh, no! No one has ever treated me to such mercy," he admitted, seeming to understand my Latin perfectly. "And, for the record, _sanctum vaccam _is Hera's thing."

"Oh, gee. I'd hate to anger an immortal goddess."

He chuckled. "Hera? Oh, she's even worse. She's been after Annabeth for a while now. And I guarantee you, Hera would love to have me killed, too."

"And once again; the unaccredited luck saved your sorry butt."

"Psh. Luck can shut its mouth. We all go unaccredited for something."

oOo

The cavern was a hassle.

Since the next half of the tunnel was now ten feet ahead of us and seventeen feet straight up, we had to climb up the cliff wall before making the jump. Worse yet, he insisted I go first.

"Bree," he'd chided quietly. "I can't make that leap alone. My leg isn't well enough. Nectar's not a miracle worker." He had, somewhere, found the will to chuckle darkly at his wit. "I need you down there to catch me when I fall short."

"Catch?! The last… The last time I tried…"

"Would you rather just let me fall, then?"

"…No. No, I wouldn't."

So after ten minutes of coaxing and desperately trying to ignore the hostile echoes, I managed to get across. And of course Nico had been right. He sailed over just short of the entrance. Panicked, I'd lunged forward and scrabbled for him. My hands closed in on his jacket. But a jacket's a jacket and it comes off-

"Back up," he grunted, hands locked on the lip of the tunnel.

I groaned and scrabbled back, terrified of standing by and terrified to help. He'd slowly clambered up into the tunnel and on we went.

It didn't help my fears.

I got to the point where I couldn't even hear Nico speak, I was too preoccupied. Ethan's screams echoed up and down those cold black walls. Amplified. Twisted. Someone was laughing in the background – Kronos, perhaps? The demon squeezed my chest and held its claws at my throat and constantly gave that mischievous pull downwards…

"Bree, we're almost there. Keep going," Nico would say. Now and then, I would notice.

At one point, I flatted myself to the floor and sprawled out my limbs, pressing them to the tunnel's edges. I would not fall. "Just give me… A minute…" I breathed.

He had laid a hand on my back and waited, every antagonizing second.

"We're nearly there," he whispered when I got up. "I can't wait to be out of here."

"It is creepy," I agreed dryly. My hands still shook.

"That, too," he muttered. Then I remembered his current conflict with his father.

This tunnel really was torture for him, I realized.

On we went. On and on and on. It seemed like forever to me.

Then, rather suddenly, I heard him stop. "…Do you hear that?"

I frowned. "Hear what?" All I heard was Ethan… never mind.

"It sounds like…" But he shook his head. "No. Keep going. I'm going to lose my mind down here…."

So I went on.

Maybe a hundred yards later, he stopped again. "Come on. I know you can hear it. Tell me I'm not crazy."

"Um…" I closed my eyes and listened, but there was nothing. "What does it sound like?"

"It sounds almost like… Like Phil."

Oh. Not sure how to respond to that, I shrugged and kept moving. Worry played with the edges of my throat. Had our trip upset him so much, he no longer needed to skull to hear the nonexistent voices? The idea scared me. Suddenly I wanted someone to tell me he wasn't crazy, too.

Then, up ahead, I saw something.

"Hold up," I said, raising Întuneric. Weak light bounced back at us from something up ahead.

I scooted closer. Nico waited where I'd paused, listening.

Then the rainbow light found a familiar curve and two dark, empty pits. I stopped cold.

"…Sis?" Nico called. "Bree? What's wrong?"

I had begun to shake in earnest. From behind, I swore I heard laughter. Had to get out, had to get out, had to get out…

…But the tunnel exit was blocked by a familiar grinning skull.

"Hey, look!" Nico cried, now behind me. "It's Phil! Phil! We're over here!"

"Nico…. Nico, shush. How did he get here?"

"I don't know!" he wailed joyously. "Phil! Are you cracked?" He paused, listening to the fictional answer. "That's great! Come over here!"

In answer, a great crashing sound came from behind us.

I yelled and ducked down. The angry banging continued and grew louder. Grew… closer…

Nico whipped around and glared down the tunnel, every muscle tensing.

Then, from every side…

…Laughter.

I didn't imagine it this time.

An audible growl came from my half-brother. "Show yourself!" His sword appeared in his hands.

The laughter grew louder and the angry crashing closer, making the rock shake beneath us. I dug my nails in tighter as I began to slip. No… No, no, no, no….

Next to me, I heard Nico cry out as he fell, landing on his shoulder. His hand grabbed my ankle desperately.

Beneath, the ground rippled, a hungry rumbling I recognized well…

Too late, I understood.

"Come on!" I screamed over the noise. It was deafening now. Nico climbed to his hands and knees, bewildered. "We have to get out of here!"

He glanced behind him. "What-"

"Nico, listen! Dad didn't make this tunnel! We have to get out…" I started to run forward but skidded to a stop, staring at the roof.

Who knew how deep underground we were… Trapped beneath tons of rock…

Nico snarled at the hoarse laughter. "Well, if we're running, run!"

A feeling of hopelessness filled me. This had been a bad idea from the start.

"Nico, where are we?" I rasped.

"Underground! Why?"

"What's above us?"

"Tons of earth…"

"And which goddess wants you dead and me captured alive?"

Silence.

"Nico… She has us trapped…"

"Go!" he screamed, and shoved me towards Phil. "Run! I don't give a damn where we are, just run!"

"But it's not-"

"I DON'T CARE! All I know is that I have something and someone to live for, and I'm _NOT _going to die here today! She won't have the satisfaction! So get a move on!"

I was too panicked not to listen. I ran.

"GO GO GO!" he screamed. "I'm right behind you! Go!"

Around us, the tunnel shook harder. My hands slipped and my knees were scraped open. The horrible crashing noise overrode his voice and somewhere, something huge began to crack…

It seemed like the whole world was being pitched around. Dust and rocks began to fall from the ceiling. Ahead, Phil grinned at us smugly.

_Crack. _The ground beneath my right hand disappeared.

I yelped and yanked it away, still scrambling to run. The whole tunnel had split lengthwise. I could feel it growing wider by the second.

Beneath us, a black hole yawned open…

"Watch out!" Nico cried. I didn't know what from. Then, ahead, I saw rocks flying across the tunnel like cannonballs fired across the sea, deadly missiles shooting between the walls-

-Crack.

That wasn't the earth.

It turned out to be something in my shoulder. Something heavy slammed into my side and fire burst into existence all down my arm. Everything else just vanished into white, blazing light. Even the noise disappeared.

…"Bree!"…

…Pain, coming in waves, pulsing relentlessly from my shoulder… The rest of my arm had gone utterly numb…

…Something roared in the distance. An angry, ravenous roar. I had the dim sensation that whatever I laid on was moving. Odd…

…"Get up! Please! I'm not going to walk away alone again…"

…Slowly, the rumble in the background solidified into something very real. It exploded in my ears and suddenly I knew I wasn't wrong about something moving. The cotton in my mind was attacked by a leaf-blower as things snapped back into perspective.

The tunnel. Gaea's tunnel. We were going to die here, I remembered…

I groaned and tried to get up, but my right arm would not move. At all. The earth was shaking so hard I wondered if I could've succeeded, anyway. In fact, it was a miracle I wasn't sliding back down the slope…

Then I felt the arm pulling on my left, heard Nico pleading for me to get up. We would die down here if I didn't. What on earth would that do to Brook? To Hunter? We had to move…

I looked up at him. He had managed to climb forward – or maybe I'd slid down – over me and clung desperately to the wall, because there wasn't really much room to stand. The split in the tunnel was huge now, and he half-hung over the edge, one hand raised to hold Mνήμη up and parry what projectiles he could. He cursed as one hit his injured leg.

"Back up," I warned, and he obediently slid away, giving me room to struggle to my hands and knees. One hand grabbed my shirt daringly and pulled fiercely on it, angling my torso upwards.

"There you go," he rasped. "Up. We're not dead yet."

"Not yet," I muttered, clinging desperately to the lip of the opening chasm. It was the only thing to hold on to. The violent shaking of the tunnel caused me to bite my tongue as I spoke. I clamped my mouth shut and tried to see through narrowed eyes.

Dust was everywhere. Smaller rocks were still flying. Phil still grinned at us from ahead. And from below…

Nico cried out as Mνήμη was knocked from his hands. It went skidding along the wall, down, down, down…

…Its weak glyphs found something. It flashed past and kept on barreling uphill.

"Boulder!" I warned, and tried going forward again. The shaking nearly threw me clean off into the great rip. I screamed and stopped short.

Then I realized that with Întuneric sheathed and Mνήμη gone, I could still see.

"UP! UP!" Nico cried, lunging forward and grabbing my left hand. I thought he'd fall into the hole for sure.

But he pushed up, grasping desperately at the ceiling.

The chasm continued upwards.

"Climb!" he screamed desperately. "Up! Now!"

I stared in wonder up ahead. Just beyond Phil, if I squinted, I could see the door. And above, the chasm opened into skylight…

We weren't miles underground. We were close to the house, and very close to the surface. There was hope yet.

With a wild yell I lunged upwards, scrabbling at the bucking walls. Horror bloomed in my chest as I realized I know hung over miles of empty air. But no, no, no… Something Nico had said rang in my ears.

I wasn't willing to die today, either. We had a war to fight and people to protect.

Below, I could see the boulder now, rolling uphill at the speed of a bullet train. My legs still dangled in its way.

"Up! Up!" Nico was still calling, desperately scrambling. I spun my legs up and tried to follow.

Then he hesitated. "Phil!"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" I spat, adding in a few choice words. But Phil was easier to aim for than the cliff. I grabbed him between my boots and used my knees to push us up. Up… Up… Too slow-

-Or not. The boulder shot harmlessly by below Phil.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then the chasm began to close.

"Up! Up!" I screamed at Nico. He grunted and tried, but between me and his leg, I knew we were getting nowhere. We were going to die here, anyway, just feet from the grass above…

The blinding sun glared down at us, the only witness to our deaths.

All around me, the earth was turning to mud, sticking to my clothes and daring to pull me in. The ground around Nico was still hard; he, of course, wouldn't be taken alive. He'd be crushed like a bug. He screamed and cursed at the closing walls, swearing in a language that not even I knew. It sounded similar to Latin, though.

Then, making it harder to hold on, water spilled down on us. Salt water.

I cried out and then clamped my mouth shut, choking on it. It streamed down like we were in a river. The mud grew wetter and clung to me, like reaching fingers, pulling me in…

…And then the water came back up.

There is no other way to describe it. The water shot back up like a geyser, suddenly with the force of a wall flying up from below. I gasped as my body left the rocky mud and my hand slid from Nico's. Phil disappeared from my boots. Quite suddenly, I was airborne, and accenting rather quickly.

The lip of the chasm shot by, and just like that, we were out.

The blinding sun danced off the water's diamond surface, mocking but relieved laughter that we hadn't been swallowed. So bright after the tunnel's cramped darkness.

Then the water disappeared and I crashed onto the ground, stifling a scream as it brought back the white-hot pain in my shoulder. It wasn't a hard thing to do. My breath had been punched away.

Not two feet in front of me, Nico landed, cursing and choking on water. I stared at him as the shock slowly processed and air filled my lungs again. He had managed to get out of the tunnel with naught but a small scratch on his hair line that was teeming with crimson but shallow enough that I didn't have to inspect it to be sure.

Dark, panicked eyes found mine and stilled. He slid one tentative hand across the grass. I returned the gesture with my left.

And I realized at last that we were out. Together, somehow, we had survived.

The ground still shook, but I could feel solid ground beneath me. Suddenly I was glad it felt so firm. Ground! Solid ground! It shook but oh gods, it was better than the terror. Beneath me was springy, soaked grass and mud. Its tangy scent was the best thing I'd ever smelled. Overhead, the warm sun blazed, already warming the wet crystal droplets. Oh, bright sun and blues skies. Not peace but not a significant threat. I could even see the funeral home; the back door wasn't ten meters away. From behind, it almost looked like… a real house…

"Dead?!" a startled, high-pitched voice yelped. A silver paw slammed down between our locked gazes.

Nico coughed and scowled up at the wolf. "If you'd like to be, that could be arranged."

Over my fingers, a pebble jumped and hopped from the shaking earth.

Moon was pushed aside and Hunter knelt down, examining us. Golden eyes glinted grimly. "So, I'm guessing we wouldn't pass the inspection to sell the thing as a water slide?"

"The thought crossed my mind," I admitted.

"Guys!" someone yelled from nearby. "We have to get out of here! It's going to open again!"

I turned, startled to hear that voice. But there Shay stood, hair a wild mess and the wild fury of battle in her eyes. Water curved around her like several happy snakes. At her feet, a small seam of rocks was all there was to show of our escapade. "We have to run!" she cried again.

Hunter nodded. "Right. Come on, guys." Small hands grabbed at my shoulders – Brook.

"Wait. How'd…. How'd you get here?" I asked Shay, still staring at the camo-clad girl in bewilderment.

"I _walked,"_ she muttered, splaying her fingers and sending a water-snake crawling along the crack, looking for flaws. "Not sure if you've heard of it, the way you poofed around last night."

"Let's do better than walk out of here," Hunter encouraged, pulling Nico to his feet. Well, foot. His right leg was starting to give again. I groaned and got to my feet, offering my good arm as support. Hunter prodded us on from behind and Brook darted on ahead, wolves streaming after her. Twice we tripped on the rumbling earth.

But we didn't fall. The ground shook harder as, together, we bolted for the house.

oOo

**Nyx: Okay yeah so the chapters are getting longer. So what. I decided to ditch my ten-page limit until the next book.**

**Nic: I noticed. See, I told you it'd be okay. *pats Nyx's head***

**OCD-moody Nyx: Mph. Anyway, SO SORRY this is late. I knew it should've been up this morning, but the ending sucked, and I had to redo it, and so many other things. I'm doing all I can to keep up with the updates. As a writer, I refused to put down the keyboard for even a day, but realize I have so much else to do and that keyboard won't be up for as long as I'd like it to be. There may be a late chapter or two approaching. Heads up. Once I get past this rough patch, though, it should go more smoothly and I'll even have time to work on the cover again! Yay!**

**Nic: Yes!**

**Nyx: You guys WON'T be disappointed, I promise! It's coming great. And as far as this book's length, it'll be longer than Rebels. Six hundred pages, about. Rebels was like five hundred forty or something. I think Rebels turned out way better, but this is more of a filler novel anyway, so it's a tad harder to really make it bloom. Anywho, I'll see y'all again as soon as the next chapter is up and running! Thanks for your patience! In the meantime, please do review and tell us how we're doing. It'd mean a ton. Thanks.**


	42. Survival of the Fittest

**DISCLAIMER: Mr. Riordan does not seem inclined to let go of the PJatO/HoO series.**

oOo

We didn't stop.

We ran and ran and ran, committed a hit-and-run with the kitchen door, thundered up the stairs where we could no longer feel the earth's wild jerks, and down the hall for one of the rooms. This proved to be a tad destructive, seeing as we had the too-energetic creatures that lacked thumbs in the lead. Rather than trying their luck with a door, they followed Moon when she intentionally rammed her head into a wall, and took to demolishing the plaster within seconds. _Poof!_ New entrance.

We were so panicked, we followed them straight through the hole. If I hadn't just been in that tunnel, I'd have sworn something sinister was on our heels, chasing my heart at dangerous speeds and making every nerve twitch and my breath catch-

Against the wall. We flattened ourselves to it, the one with the large hole, as if hiding from someone on the other side. It made me squirm. I couldn't see outside that way, and it left my right side painfully exposed to the entrances, where Ethan could no longer protect it and even I was useless.

Beneath our feet, a faint vibrating stopped. We didn't know it was there until it was gone.

Gaea was finished with us. For now.

I groaned and slid to the floor without thinking. This resulted in Nico being dragged down with me. But I didn't question; I was just grateful for the support whether he'd meant it or not – he had spoken with passion and helped me so many times before it was almost instinct now not to question him, instinct to know that he'd let me – and leaned on his shoulder. Tired muscles let out cramped, stale breaths. My eyes slid closed to spare me the painful lights. Inside my chest, my heart fluttered, not realizing until then that it was okay to calm down.

Someone warm squeezed my left hand, reveling with me in the long-awaited moment of peace.

I opened my eyes. They immediately found Nico's wide charcoal ones. His face was marred by the stream of red coming from his hairline, but otherwise, my attention was stolen from all else at that moment.

He did not smile with his lips. He smiled with his eyes.

Beyond him, I caught sight of movement. Hunter. She abandoned her place on the wall and knelt before us with an anxious look on her face. Brook joined her wolves in pacing the room. Her voice, warped into harsh barks and guttural growls, snapped out orders in the wolf language. Moon repeated every sound. The sight reminded me of Kronos and Hunter, or Ethan in her stead if she was absent…

…That was it. We were alone here.

"Where…" I asked, blinking. The unoccupied bed and stoic dresser watched us with slight annoyance. The walls didn't seem to mind the hole.

Hunter shook her head, cutting me off. "Not now. What happened down there?" One tentative hand reached for my shoulder.

Instinctively, I flinched back. "Uh… It… earthquaked."

She scowled. "Well, I understood that much. Don't state the overly obvious."

I saw him then. In her furrowed eyebrows and annoyed edge to her tone. The authority-like voice and self-confidence were hers, but the rest… That was Kronos.

Then the self-confidence of Hunter vanished. She had seen him, too.

Her gaze gravitated towards Nico. "You got anything to add?"

He nodded, left palm pressed to his forehead. "Yeah. The Underworld was locked. And it wasn't just an earthquake. Rocks were firing out of the walls at us and the whole thing split. And… And Phil…"

"Oh, is that this guy's name?" a familiar voice called from outside. "I was wondering what you were doing with him. Got a nice smile, he does."

In an instant, Nico vanished from my side.

I didn't see him move. But suddenly he was there, barreling into the stranger at the hole in the wall and slamming her against the door, sword raised. Crimson began to leak from a fresh cut.

"Wait!" four voices cried at once. Me, Hunter, Brook, and Moon. But not Shay. She was cornered and cut across the collarbone – as a matter of fact, in a very similar way to what she'd done to me – and still glaring defiantly into the storming eyes of the boy who held a sword to her throat. The golden links on her necklace glittered boldly.

"Who are you?" Nico snarled. His right leg was held limply on her more exposed side, a painful but easy trap to trip over.

"Chill out," Hunter said as Shay smiled at him and said, "You wouldn't hit a girl now, would you?"

His sword went a little deeper. I had heard Nico when he was angry, and I'd seen him in a fight; the word for it was not _dangerous _or _bold _or _unstoppable._ It was deadly. Deadly like Kronos crossed with a Thanatos who'd made up his mind. I could see it in him too, then, in that voice as calm and cold as the abandoned Siberian plain. "I would kill one if I had to."

"Nico, stop!" Brook sighed, exasperated. Moon growled to accent the end of it. "Idiot. See, this is what we get for trusting a male, guys. They don't ever learn to think. Kind of like the gods."

Hunter smiled grimly and said softly, "Nico, it's alright. She's not an intruder. Let her go."

He stared at her for a moment, burning eyes careful. Slowly, without breaking his gaze on Hunter, he pulled his sword back to himself and took his hands with him. Shay stepped gingerly over his injured leg and out of harm's way.

I watched all this, saw the way Hunter looked at Shay, knew by the way that the stranger moved that she was not scared of us. Almost… comfortable. Relieved. Like her guard was down.

And if Hunter trusted her here, I'd trust her anywhere.

"Nico. Come sit. You're going to ruin your leg again," I said, patting the carpet he'd abandoned. Grudgingly, he sat.

Shay sighed and plopped down on the floor in the middle of the room. "You're welcome."

"Thanks," I added sullenly.

She shrugged. "Well. It wouldn't do for me to let you guys die. You alright?"

"We'll be fine," Nico answered coldly through controlled lips and narrowed eyes. "Who are you, exactly?"

Brook sat in front of me and to the right, careful to leave Ethan's space open but close enough to examine my shoulder. It hid Shay from my view. But I could still hear her talk. "My name is Shay, Daughter of… Well, that's why I've been looking for Hunter. For years and years."

"You can tell them," Hunter urged, sitting on the bed with Anonymous drawn. Her eyes flitted between our guest and the hole in the wall. "They're on our side."

_Our side._ Like it was an alliance or a team or an army. Too late I realized that Hunter might be a tad too trusting with Shay, as she'd been with her father. As she'd been with Kronos. Though she wouldn't make the mistake again consciously, if Shay knew what to say…

"Shay, then. Shay, Daughter of Oceanus, Titan of the Seas."

Understanding slaughtered my suspicions faster than Thanatos could fly by, leaving my mind white and blank as a fresh piece of paper. A cleansing wind seemed to blow. It smelled lightly of sea salt…

"Oceanus," I murmured. "So you're a Titan's child."

She nodded solemnly and sat down against the wall across the room. "Yeah. Believe me, I noticed."

"Where were you during the war? Didn't Kronos know you existed? We thought Hunter was the only one."

"Shay," Hunter interrupted. "Tell them about… About your life until now."

Shay shrugged. "There's not much to tell. Just Dad, the beach, and the city after that. Survival. I couldn't exactly trust Olympus with knowledge of me, could I?" And there it was. The desperation in those eyes. The hopeless hope. "I've spent all my life, with Oceanus or not, hiding and keeping my own self alive, and no one else. LA made a nice spot because though there were demons, it was close enough to the Underworld that I was actually safer here than I'd be jumping around the country. And much easier. All I had to do was avoid Hades, kill demons, and find food. Survive, survive, survive…

oOo

Dad was a nice man. You would not have suspected we were related so much as we were mere roommates; he did not feed me or even talk much. We were quiet and close. Thing is, we didn't have to speak. I thought that was okay. I liked it for a while.

There were things, though, that I always wanted to know. Like why we were here in this shore shack all alone. Why we were different. I knew we weren't human, but I didn't know anything else. But he made it seem like such a mild, insignificant curiosity that I didn't ever ask. Never broke our silent pact.

He would grab a fishing pole early in the morning. I'd see it and take it as a cue to grab my own and both the tackle boxes. A silent, flawless team. That's what we were when we fished. Someone would bait the hooks and the other would grab their pole and then the second would be casting, too and it was… I don't even know how it worked. It just did. We knew one another. Never talked. It was a scar on him, the fact that he didn't speak. To me, at least. Didn't know what it was.

Didn't care.

I didn't care that we weren't human. Didn't care that we weren't normal. I was just happy. The shack made nice noises in the wind and the sand was warm and the water gave us food. Well, me. He never ate. We could swim and breathe in the cool currents and play with the dolphins. I could be a kid under the warm sun. The bright, energetic days. Loud but silent.

Night was warm and soft and quiet but loud. The shack would creak and groan and outside the waves would lull me to sleep. And across the room, in his cot, Father would whisper. He never looked at me when he spoke. But he spoke to me. As a child it was bedtime stories. Horrible stories of war and blood. Wonderful ones of magic.

_There was a king,_ he'd say. _A king with a crown of gold. He ruled over a chaotic and unstable land. He liked it this way. Power was exercised and reveled in. Petty things were left behind and forgotten as to never cause trouble._

No, he never told me the 'petty things' were humans. But I knew.

_The king was almost satisfied. He even had a family. Brothers and cousins and a wife who would go to the ends of the prehistoric earth for him. And stay there if need be. And he'd have done it for her. A blind man could've seen the way they looked at one another. At his kingdom, chest swelled with pride and teeth gleaming in the red lights of the fires. A glorious, powerful king._

_ Almost satisfied._

_ He wanted heirs. Not like he would ever fade away. The king thought he was invincible; the children were merely to complete his immortal existence. He could be happy forever, he knew, and he wanted it so badly._

_ But he was warned. His children would be the end of him._

_ Torn as he was, the king didn't know what to do. He loved his wife and he loved his kingdom irrevocably. Not the way people usually think of love, no, but he'd have lost his mind if he lost his kingdom. If he lost his wife. And she was already pregnant, the wife he could not loose bearing a child he couldn't keep or get rid of._

_ What was there for him to do?_

_ Nobody knows why he ate the child. Some say that he thought in a way, he'd keep it as a part of him, but not have to worry about losing his kingdom. Others say he lost his mind entirely. Still others said he decided it was better not end the predicament then before it could grow more serious. His wife said not a word about it when it happened, either; she watched with silent eyes and supported him as she always did._

_ Nobody knows why they kept going, either. Maybe he prayed each time that something would happen differently, that his problem would be solved eventually, if he just gave it enough chances. He ate the next child. And the next. And the next._

_ And thought he ate the next._

_ But the loving, supporting wife he could not lose; the woman who'd watched with silent eyes and said not a word; the wife he trusted with everything… became the wife that betrayed him._

_ She fed him a rock and gave the youngest child to three water goddesses to raise, out of the sights of the king. One of the king's loyalist warriors knew, but that wife with the silent eyes told him to keep quiet. And she was his queen, and he had no proof that the king didn't know, so he kept quiet and watched with silent eyes himself…_

_ …And one day, the child came back to start a war._

He told it the way everybody talks of war. The sleek, slippery attempt to make it honorable cracked and shattered and bits of Hell burning through those crevices. Then chunks of it and then suddenly there was no honor left. The world became even more chaotic. He told stories of sacrifice and betrayal and laments so strong he cried. My father cried.

Did Kronos ever tell you about the war? Was it similar?

Ah. The painful past wasn't his main focus, I see.

_The fellow soldier who'd hid the prince's existence was banished with the king and his treacherous wife when they lost that war. It is said that to this day, he remains loyal to his ruler, ever unable to find the courage to admit the secret he'd kept and ever trying, ever failing to make it up to that shattered king…_

His whispers in the dark told me of other things, too. Sometimes he spoke of humans today.

_Cities like anthills. They crawl through the streets and flood the world with their bodies and their wastes. They fog up the air. They put trash in the oceans. Yes, child, the same one you and I live with. It and all the others. In their struggle to survive and go well beyond, they have done horrible things…_

He explained how their society worked. Now and then he'd show me things; newspapers, car keys, an old sink. Trash he pulled out of the ocean. He would leave them out for me to see during the silent days and whisper feverishly about them in the not-so-silent night.

And then, one day, when I was about to turn twelve, he told me who we were. It was the first time he'd spoken during the day. In the beach's breeze with the sand crawling between our toes and the surf regularly coming up to wash it away.

And then he said that he had to leave me.

_Child, I cannot stay. I must go._

_ But why?_ I had asked.

He just gave me a sad smile and said, _My king calls. I still have a debt to repay. And oceans to save. I'll save the oceans for you while I'm at it, alright? But that's not the best part._

_ I'd like to take you with me._

Leave? Our small beach?

_I can introduce you to my king. Together, you and I could wreak havoc. We can destroy the humans that've destroyed our seas. We can destroy the man that stole my oceans from me. You and I, together, side-by-side. In service to a man who could do even more for the world. Don't you want that?_

_ And if I can offer him a child to our aid… Perhaps then it'll atone for the one I didn't bring him before._

I remember shock. Never once had I doubted him, hearing that… I did now.

Loyal little dog would do anything for his master, right? Even at another's expense? Was I naught but the bone he'd been told to fetch? I'd been… I'd lived with him all my life, slept in the same room, listened to him whisper every night and he'd heard me breathe in the silence after I'd fallen asleep and no he never fed me but he taught me to fish, and that was all I needed… All those days, all those bedtime stories, all the fish and all the broken lines and all the monster's he'd kept away and out of my sight.

He'd only been here for scouting. At night, the words I didn't hear, he'd whispered spells. He had always been Kronos's dog. He brought storms to the shores and killed humans and scouted out the battleground. Kronos had sent him up and out of Tartarus before the others for just that reason. No, he didn't know that I'd ever been born, but even so… He was the reason…

And I had never known my mother. What was she? A toy? A mistake? Had she run off when she discovered what we were? Had he… had he killed her?

To doubt the one person you've loved and trusted all your life. It's a horrible feeling.

And to top it off, I had no desire to anger the Olympians. Stay out of their way. The cruel idealists who'd stomped out the troubled king. Even if their side of the story was in reality lighter than he told it, I knew I wouldn't ever be safe while they existed. No need to provoke them further.

So I told him no. I wouldn't come.

I would be on my own, and I would survive just fine.

oOo

"The memory goes dead for several hours after that," Shay said, sighing. "I don't know if it's my mind or if he messed with my head or what. I don't remember goodbye or any orders he'd have told me or what I said to him. The next thing I remember is the sun setting, bleeding its color into my precious waves and my father gone. My father, my captor. I didn't know what to think of him as anymore.

"There were two daggers in the sand where he'd stood. I took them and ran north under commands or instincts I couldn't name. And I found this place. It was then that I knew he'd been prepared for my rejection; all the stories about current-day humans and how their cities worked. So I blended into the streets and have been surviving here ever since. The demons from the Underworld, I can handle so far, and they've kept the other demigods away. Not even Hades knows I'm here. I just… survive. That's it."

Silence.

"Since then, I've come to the conclusion that he was indeed my father. Kronos never came for me. Nor the Olympians. He let me remain nonexistent. He didn't turn me in to repay his debt. Even if it was only because he was too much a coward to admit to Kronos what he'd done, I was grateful.

"Beyond that, I've just survived. There's no hope in that. Living on from one day to the next. Surviving one fight just to get into another. I believe Hunter mentioned something about a friend saying something else along those lines? When you guys first met Kronos? Anyway. Your friend was right. Even a painful existence is better than a pointless one. And since I had to find something to hope for…

"I just hoped for equality. Should Kronos or Olympus win the war, I didn't care. I just wanted to one day come out of hiding. I created that hope for myself that one day, I wouldn't have to just survive. I could find new purposes and new hopes and new things to do. I could walk alongside allies and not have to fear being struck down by a bolt of lightning just because I'd been sired by Oceanus. Equality. The hope for it was the only thing that kept me alive all these years."

She stared at the carpet, the space between her feet. "I heard first of Nico and any other possible Underworld children gaining equality first. A cabin at Camp Half-Blood. Percy's insistence. The next day, I learned of Hunter, Bree, and Brook. Hunter was the only one that mattered to me. She was a Titan's daughter – Kronos's, no less, raised by him and with full intent to fight Olympus at one point – allowed to live. Allowed protection in a secluded place up north."

Now she raised her head. That hope shining in bright eyes. She stared at Hunter like my sister was the eighth wonder of the world. Perhaps she was. "There are no words for what I felt. Especially when you guys came to LA yourselves. I had to speak with you, to be sure. But between the Daylight Disaster and the earth moving and these… These really bad dreams… And you guys wanted to kill me the moment you heard me nearby. It was hard. But I've survived all my life and I guess it finally paid off."

She shrugged simply. "The end."

I stared at her, lost in thought. My mind liked to track back to Kronos's story. Betrayed? A proud king shattered and driven mad? Hadn't ever thought of it like that. Wasn't inclined to. Even if it was true, it didn't excuse what he'd done, anyway.

"Olympus won't be happy," Hunter said. "I've already warned you. Not because you've done anything, but because a species of half-Titan children are raising their heads from hiding… A potential threat with a bad rep and hidden for so well for so long. But they won't punish you. You'll probably be treated like the Titan Rebels; under observation but as free as you could be."

"Are there others?" I asked. "Titan children? How long… How long have you been oppressed?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I met a Child of Iapetus once. Saved him from drowning. When he woke, he yelled at me for it. Said he'd wanted to die. He ran off and I never saw him again. I don't think anyone ever did."

"I did," Nico spat bitterly.

She glanced at him with those bright eyes, curious.

"There are things Father can block me from reading in ghosts. He hid my mother from me for a long while. And of course there are ghosts recently deceased that can hide from you on their own, without help. I spoke to him, and I knew… I suspected there was something, but… I never guessed it was that he was a Titan's son." He sighed heavily and shook his head. "I'm sorry about that. I should've known."

"Nico, our kind have been around as long as demigods, snuck through deals with demons in and out of Tartarus. There have been hundreds of Ghost Kings before you, hundreds of Sons of Hades, and not one has found out. There was no reason for you to, either, until after you met Hunter." Shay offered him a smile. "Besides, I could've prevented it if I'd refused to turn my back on the kid. But I didn't. My own survival came first."

She splayed her hands out helplessly before her and grinned at us. "Well. That's me. And Hunter told me of your past. And I've been spying on Nico long enough to know his. That just leaves the more recent predicaments to discuss, right?"

"That it does," Hunter said, getting up and stretching. Bones audibly popped in her back. "Come on downstairs. We got a few things to show you while we explain. A video, some weird stones."

"Cool." Shay got to her feet and dusted (pointlessly) some of the dry dust from her camouflage pants. "Oh, and, uh, sorry for the rough landing, guys. Oceanus's times were more… uncontrolled. Much more powerful than what they are under Poseidon's rule. Sometimes the water gets away from me."

"It's alright," I murmured. Nico nodded his agreement.

Hunter in the lead, the two Titan children left the room, talking as they went.

I stared after them. "She's got something for Hunter that you and I can't offer, doesn't she?" I whispered.

"That's correct," Brook mumbled. She shook her head frustratingly. "Look, I know what's wrong with your shoulder, but I don't know how to fix it. I've never done it before and Ethan didn't teach me. And I don't want to try and have it turn out bad…"

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. Once more, I was reminded of her vulnerability. Not so apparent, but very, very real.

"What's wrong with it, then?" Nico asked.

"It's dislocated."

I frowned. "Dist-ol-cated?"

"Dislocated," Nico corrected. "I think I know how to pop it back into place. I've done it before."

"Wonderful," Brook muttered. She fixed him under a stern glare. "You better know what you're doing."

"I do," he replied evenly. The scar on his hairline had been reduced to just that; a thin, invisible pink line. Oh, the wonders of nectar. "Stand back."

"Brook!" came Hunter's voice. "How do I work the this DVD player?"

She sighed heavily. "Coming!" Then, to Nico. "If you screw up, I'll shoot you in a heartbeat. And I won't miss my target. Am I clear?"

"You sound like your mother," he muttered.

"Good." At that, she strode from the room, barking more orders at the wolves as she went.

I raised an eyebrow at my brother. "You better not screw up, or you'll be dead before she gets the chance to shoot."

"Oh, shush."

oOo

**Nyx: Eh? Whadaya think?**

**Nic: Thought the chapter would be longer.**

**Nyx: Broke my ten-page limit by just one page this time. And it seemed like a good spot to break. I expected it to cover more, too, but it works this way.**

**Nic: That it does…**

**Nyx: Anyway, please review, guys! It's very much appreciated! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Nic: *examines desk* where are all the empty Altoid cans?**

**Nyx: *pouty lip* My sister threw them out.**

**Nic: Aaaaah….**


	43. Rant

**DISCLAIMER: Rick still owns the PJatO/HoO series. Seriously, guys. If we owned it, Nico and Ethan would have gfs.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

…**Oh, wait…. Nobody's reviewed in a long while…**

oOo

So I learned what 'dist-ol-cated' meant that day.

Dislocated. Whatever. It's easier not to think of the real word, because it makes it all kind of obvious. _Dis,_ as in _mis_, as in misplaced. Located, as in place, to be put in place. Apparently my shoulder had come out of its socket. How to fix this without it tearing up the muscles?

You yank on it.

Nico braced his foot – using his uninjured leg to support himself – against my collarbone and took my hand. I grit my teeth against the sparks of pain as he lifted it beyond its limits. "Is this gonna upset the cut Shay gave me?"

"If it does, you won't notice. It'll hurt much worse in your shoulder," he shrugged, and pulled.

No, it most certainly didn't feel good.

So after we convinced Brook that though I screamed, my arm was indeed back in place and perfectly fine aside from being sore, I retreated to my room.

"You okay?" Nico had asked, eyes carefully guarded. He did not step as close to me as he had before.

I sighed and shook my head. "I'm just…"

"Tired," he muttered. "Alright. They're downstairs, and I'll be in my room if you need anything. So, uh… bye."

He glanced around nervously as he spoke, shuffling his feet, very much like he had a few weeks into our training together. Eventually he just made for the door and disappeared down the hallway before he could be tempted to look back.

I gingerly stepped over the shattered plaster and went the other way, towards my own bedroom, silently thrilled that he had not given me his usual hateful look.

The room did not greet me as the one in Oswego would have. Not a creak or groan or peaceful reconciliation. Just the same cold, stoic, utterly calm presence. It was comforting in its own way, I guess. The dark carpet felt nice through my socks and the air still smelled of sweet rosin.

I took one glance at my violin's case, felt the throbbing ache in my bowing shoulder, and snorted. "Sorry. It'll have to wait." And with that, I flopped down onto the bed.

Ugh. Limp muscles on something soft and warm. There was nothing better.

Lying on my back seemed to suit my shoulder best, so that's what I did, studying the popcorn on the ceiling above vigorously. It was hard; naught but a strange mix of very light grays, and tiny little specs at that. The shadow realm proved a little better, as I could make out the depth as well, feel that millimeter of shadow leading upwards on the darker side of a soft little bump. It hurt my eyes for a moment.

Then the distraction came. That one over there – I could've sworn it looked like a human face. The shadows were in the right spots, and I could just make out the two eyes… Shrouded by maybe bangs…

Oh! There was the contour of a cat over there! And that one. It looked like a lady with an umbrella and a walking stick. Mary Poppins, or Nanny McPhee? I could never remember the difference between the two…

Tiredness came first. The lines and shapes began to blur and my shadow vision fell away in little bits and pieces. The ache from the strain on my eyes slowly bled into reality. The throbbing in my shoulder, angry at being avoided, demanded attention once more.

But the ailing faded away, too. The bed seemed to grow softer and softer. Amazing, the things lack of sleep can do…

…The wrong memory surfaced at the wrong time, then. Or was it the right one? I swear, that bump under my shoulder wasn't my pillow, but Ethan's arm. Maybe it wasn't a bed. Maybe it wasn't the popcorn dots above but the stars, just beginning to peek through the clouds overhead. The great, ancient, untamed stars. Almighty-like. Laelaps and Hercules's tribute and Orpheus's lyre and Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, the two bears. Something about a wife and a son, a hunting accident, saved by Zeus and then cursed by Hera…?

The stars. Nico's map. Yes, they'd emerged that night on the _Princess Andromeda._ Blurred with fatigue and general lack of concern, dulled by the blood that coated my fingers and soaked his shirt and the shivering of my sisters next to me, but there nonetheless. Too arrogant to find anger in my neglect.

The stars had always been there, even then. The stars had watched in their almighty, white, burning fires my life. Ethan's.

Did they hold any memories of him?

The familiar, dreaded cavity yawned in my chest. I didn't have the will to fight it. Gods, I'd take it. Being on that ship again. If only it meant he were here.

Before my eyes flashed the chasm. I heard not just Ethan's screams but Nico's startled yell. Ethan's sweaty hands slipping from mine and my brother's cold, dry, slender artist fingers hardly there at all. Utter weightlessness, flying through the wind, knowing the ground was moving closer and closer…

…Suddenly I realized it wasn't fatigue that'd made me tired.

I squeezed my eyes shut. So many questions. What should I have done? Would Ethan have approved? Or would he just scold me over my fears simply because I let myself be plagued?

Though I laid on a bed, though I felt the ship's rocking and gentle deck beneath me, I still felt the fear. A monster writhing inside. Hand in hand with the grief.

As if mourning didn't hurt enough.

Before I could even begin to wonder what he'd have thought of Shay – surely he'd have held her in the highest respects, being a survivor himself – sleep managed to take me. But even in its deep, dark, and still recesses, I could feel the scorching air on my right…

oOo

"Are you ready?"

The cat bristled at his cold tone and blank, blank eyes, staring ahead into nothing. "Am I ready?! I've _been _ready for ages! You're the one that's been holding us here!"

The half-blood sighed. He had well passed the mark of hate for this demonic monstrosity. "Calm yourself, cat. I know what I'm doing."

An angry snarl was accented by the sharp sound of unsheathed claws. "Call me that again, and I won't wait until the attack for a snack." Sharp teeth clacked hauntingly.

It didn't bother him. Cold, hard indifference lined his skin, his throat, freezing on his mind.

Like ice…

Ice, like her tormentor. Like the wind over the tundra. Like the way her screams felt on his spine and in his chest and in his head and all the way down to his fingertips.

_Not my fault. Not my fault._

"I could," he said slowly, "call you 'kitty' if you wished."

The creature howled, slashing angrily at an unlucky tree and flinging his spiked tail through the air. Poisoned darts went sailing into the sunset.

He smiled. The sound was music to his ears. The demon's pain had become one of his salvaged pleasures.

He was quite proud of it.

Eternally more so over the fact that he knew how to _get_ it.

Ice, over every cell, beautiful frost worming its way into the smallest parts of him. Like wind sneaking in through a tightly-pulled jacket. Relentless. Unstoppable.

If ice could hurt her, ice could save her. He would. He would save her with this ice.

He'd take it with him into LA. He would take what they wanted and then from them take what _he _wanted.

Ice. Ice. A hard thing to hold, ice was. It slipped from your fingers and sledded away across the floor and hid beneath the fridge. Nobody would find them after that, not ever.

They could take it back. They could have what they'd lost. Him and her. No more screams, no more frostbitten cold.

Just the good ice. Indifference. Slippery. He could taste her, it was so close…

_Not my fault. It was never my fault._

_ Not my fault…._

oOo

I awoke feeling that I'd forgotten something important. It slid past my grasp the way ice does, melting into slippery water in your fingers.

Ice. Huh. Odd thing to cross my mind. It was much cooler here now that noon had long since passed, but it was still quite hot compared to Oswego. I was sweating.

I groaned and sat up, stretching. My shoulder creaked in protest.

_Not bad,_ I thought. _I ought to exercise it._

After taking a moment to straighten my shirt and confirm from drifting voices that the others were still talking downstairs, I grabbed my violin case and unzipped it quickly. A gust of wind seemed to blast at me from inside. It was so thick with rosin, it was almost suffocating.

I loved it.

The smell of old wood and the rosin dust was like home to me. So quickly I had taken to my mother's pride and joy. I slipped on the shoulder rest and set the violin aside to tend to the bow, tightening it and then sliding the rosin block up and down, up and down, the familiar movement itself already such an oiled and soothing concerto, until I could see the thin layer of snowy white powder over the yellowed hairs.

Perfect.

I ended my concerto with a nice, retarded* ending and a gentle vibrato. Then I put the rosin away and grabbed the real instrument.

With the hand holding the bow, I gently reached down and clicked the familiar button on my iPod…

…And a very different intro greeted me.

It almost sounded electronic, but it nearly matched the beat on _Viva la Vida's_ intro. And shorter. It came like an old memory – no longer forgotten, oh so familiar, from so long ago…

Rather than changing the song, I put my bow on the first string that came to mind, and waited for the melody to start.

_I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known._

_Don't know where it goes, but it's home to me and I walk alone…_

I don't think I'd ever played off instinct. But I knew this song. I'd sung it over and over in the corner and in our dorm and in the other quiet little places Hunter, Brook, or Kronos couldn't hear. Each note resonated inside like it'd been written in stone. Huge, unmistakable feeling rose behind it. Totally understanding of the song. The utter isolation. Isolation beyond _my _comforts, and that is saying something.

_I walk this empty street, on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams,_

_Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone…_

My violin sang. Loneliness and longing. It poured out through the notes. A familiar song so much sweeter, so much sadder with vibratos. Bewilderment, wondering how we'd come to be here of all places….

_My shadow's the only one that walks beside me,_

_My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating._

_Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me._

'_Till then, I walk alone…._

Ah. There it was. The tricky melody of the chorus threw me off. My violin shuttered and stopped, utterly confused. Which notes were what? Oh, wait, no, that sequence had passed…

I set down the instrument and let the song finish on its own. Lonely and all alone. My heart had begun to race. Oh, great gods of Olympus, that song…

…So familiar, so strong. It'd been a long time since I walked Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams, since I'd felt so alone. Hunter and I had fought in earnest back then. A cold and terrified time that had been. Without her, my courage had waned. I had no doubt that this fight, too, contributed to my silence when I'd seen things that shouldn't stay so quiet.

A cold place, that had been. Like ice.

"So you do know other songs."

I yelled and leapt forward, landing my violin and bow on the bed and spinning around above them with Întuneric drawn.

Nico leaned back and stared at the sword. "Ah… Nice to meet you, too, Întuneric…"

"_Nico!_ I told you to quit sneaking up on me!"

"I, uh, heard you playing, and…"

"You know what? I _should _stab you. Just for the heck of it. To teach you a lesson. To let out my frustrations. There are several reasons, really. Which would you feel most comfortable with?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking down and shuffling his feet.

I sighed and sheathed the blade. "Fine. You get one last chance. I know I shouldn't do this, but I will. Since you saved me in the tunnels."

He, knowing his place, continued to stare at his feet as I got down from the bed and began to put my instrument away. "…You won't continue playing?"

"That wasn't really playing. That was improvisation, and a really bad one. Guessing at notes as I listened to a song. And I don't typically have an audience. And that song… it doesn't remind me of the happiest times."

All excuses. I didn't mind what the song reminded me off; it was so sweet, the sound of it. And it _did _remind me of a happy time. Of Ethan. How long had he walked in that maze, alone…? Much more alone than I'd ever been.

I sighed heavily as my thoughts from earlier made themselves known. "Ugh."

He watched somberly as I zipped up the case. "Does that hurt your shoulder?"

"Not really."

He sat on the bed beside the case and ran a hand along it, staring with wide dark eyes as if he could see the dark wood beneath. "…You play really well."

"You've said that before." A little worried about the look he was giving _my _instrument, I took it from him and leaned it against the dresser before taking its place beside him.

"No, I mean, like…. I… I like to hear you play."

"Oh." I looked at my shoes.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Are you okay?" I asked eventually. "I mean, in the tunnel – your head, your leg, and the door-"

"I'm fine," he said. "It's not like I haven't been through similar."

"You seemed upset."

"Well, yeah, I was kind of hoping we could figure this out. But we can't. So we'll move on and find another way in." He fell back until he laid sprawled out on the covers. "And Father… Father…"

I sighed and leaned back next to him. "Yeah. He wasn't involved after all. It was all… All Gaea."

"It bothers me that she was able to open something so close to the Underworld. No, not technically in it, but my closet is directly connected…" He closed his eyes and shuddered. "We're going to die here. You know that, right?"

The words did not shock me. Nor did the finality of his tone. "Well. It wasn't set in stone, but I've wondered."

"She's growing more powerful by the moment. If Father left us out here knowing we could handle it… Having prepared us… Gods, I hate to let him down, but he was wrong." He spoke like it was naught but a comment on the weather. "At this rate, we can't win."

"We could tell the others. Maybe we'll stand a better chance."

He shook his head. "No. No, I think we better play into her hands on that one. She doesn't want them to know. And that's keeping her just a little less aggressive."

"But not so much that she won't kill us."

"Right. And I'll tell them when the time comes. They'll know what they died for. It's you that I'm worried about."

I sighed. "You don't pity the dead. Right."

"I just don't know why she wants you. But I do know what she's willing to do to make you cooperate. And that…."

"Maybe…" I sighed and turned over, so my back was to him. "Maybe it's because I'm not a demigod."

He sat up. "You say that like it bothers you."

"Should it not? Nico, even if I was the child of Zeus himself and hadn't served Kronos, I'd still be shut out. A Reject, as you called it before. It's why Dad hates me and Kronos wanted me as his servant and Gaea needs me now. I'm so far from human. Even… Even Kronos…."

He laid a hand on my shoulder and did not speak.

"…Kronos wanted me to kill you," I admitted in a whisper.

"I imagine so," he muttered.

"No, you don't get it. I was a demonic Underworld creature descendant from the losing side of WWII. You know, the ones with the gas chambers. In case you didn't know, that's exactly why I don't read Întuneric's memories. Back then, you were a monster that stalked our righteous armies. You were a sadistic murderer and an out-of-control madman. And you were _twice _the human I was."

Silence.

"It's because I'm not human nor demigod nor Olympian. All of this is. It's why Gaea wants me. It's why she developed her next move here, in LA, where my source of power is. It's why we're all going to die here."

"That's a load of Minotaur dung."

The sudden outburst startled me. "What?"

"Minotaur dung. The demigod term for bull sh-"

"I know what you _said,"_ I cut him off, rolling over to stare up at him. "But what…?"

Hard anger glinted in his eyes, startling me further. He was mad now? "Bree, what do you do in school?"

"Um… learn?"

"No. When the other kids treat you like a freak."

"Don't… care?"

"Right. Because you know who you are. Gods, you're so stupid. Can't you apply the same thing on a larger scale?"

"Nico, they're right on a larger scale. I'm not normal. A freak; that's exactly what I am."

"That's not what makes you… Hmph," he muttered, swinging his legs out over the edge of the bed. "Geez. People are idiots. It's not that hard to understand, Bree. You're nothing but a demigod to me. What would Ethan say?"

I had no answer.

"Yes, we're all going to die here. I won't lie to myself. But did I ever say Gaea was going to win? No. No, I didn't. Because we'll die stopping her. _All _of us. Including you. You heard Shay talk earlier; life doesn't work unless you got something worth fighting for. Worth surviving for. And you fight for it. You fought for your beliefs, Ethan's reputation, Ethan's memory, your survival, Hunter, and Brook when you fought Kronos. You found those things and fought for them. And that's all we're doing here. We don't just fight to live to the next fight; we fight for what's right and for the humans and for the gods and whatever else you can think of. You and I? The dead. Their memories. Shay? Hope. And through all that, the spirit of the demigod. Because what else is it? We do the impossible. We live with one foot in each world. We connect them and we separate them. That's what we_ live_ for; all the things we fight for. And what do you do, Sis? What the hell makes you any different?"

He was glaring furiously now, but off into space. Not at me. His voice shook with anger but was solid, resting on something deeper, something I dared not disturb in him.

"Nothing," he finished. "Absolutely nothing. A demigod goes way deeper than blood. Why would you listen to what people said, anyway? They're all idiots. And Kronos lied to you left and right. Don't give a drop of the Styx for it."

I just stared at him.

Since when did Nico speak so much?

And since when was… was he _motivational?_

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A demigod.

"Don't lie. You feel the same passion Percy does. There's no difference," Nico muttered with a few other choice words. He almost seemed to be pouting now.

Passion. The way he'd spoken earlier. The cold, unforgiving resolution when I'd fought Kronos and when he'd faced Minos. Ethan's last acts.

I'd never pretend to be as great as Ethan had been. And gods, how I missed him, but…

"…I've… Never thought of it that way," I managed. I opened my eyes to study my wrist. There it was; that shimmer of gold in the spider-like blue veins. The marker for what I was. Or at least my bloodline.

Suddenly it hit me. I looked up at him. My brother was still glaring at the air, at something I couldn't see, scowling and lost in his own thoughts. "That's what you've told yourself for a long time now, isn't it? When you were alone and when Olympus officially hated you like they do us?"

He shrugged. "It was one of the things. I figured it was more important to you." He turned to look at me with wide, pleading eyes. Begging almost. "You do understand, right?"

"…Yeah, yeah, I do." I stared at my boots. "But what about… during the war, when our kind followed Dad into…?"

"Hitler was human," he said flatly. "Don't underestimate the human side of you, either. That side of the war was a mundane affair. We… Our siblings did equally horrible things. But one of the things _I _live for is to correct that. The ones who did that were misled and disowned. That's what happens when you forget what you're surviving for. I intend to never repeat that."

Still I stared, taken by awe. Never would I have guessed my brother had this hidden somewhere in him. But that he did; he spoke like he had in the tunnel, full of utter belief. Almost… Almost _wise._

I looked at my wrist again. I thought of Hunter and Brook and the day my sister had placed herself between her father and I, of all the pillow fights and Scenarios, of Ethan's smile and Kyle's clever word games and the dark-haired boy's love for magic. Of my grandmother's cooking and Grandpa's brain teasers.

Of a snowball fight and cherished laugh. Of a boy swearing he'd fight until the hopeless end.

"What I live for," I muttered, and closed my eyes again. Gods, I'd held them so close. Why hadn't I ever looked at them this way before?

"What you live for," Nico echoed quietly. "Live's not about what you're born into. It's about what you're willing to die for."

He still glared, no longer speaking to me, but to someone far off who hadn't listened the last time. Just a frustrated kid talking about his own humble findings, yet about the meaning of life itself.

I smiled and leaned into him. "Yeah. What you're willing to die for."

oOo

**Nyx: So yeah. This is where it gets really confusing for those who haven't read Rebels. That's why we recommended you read it first. Plus, you know, we don't like you guys having spoilers before you actually read the work.**

**Nic: Who's excited?! House of Hades is almost out! Yes!**

**Nyx: I'm sorry this is a few hours late. This week has been really hard on me. I've been operating on like four hours of sleep a night, and that's stressing it, even for me. But there will be no postponed chapters, I promise. Writing is not something I'm inclined to set aside easily.**

**Nic: You need to watch a movie, my friend.**

**Nyx: So please review, guys! Let me know how I did. This is an important chapter and your opinion is very valued. Even if, like, you're reading this a couple months in the future and Rejects has already been completed. Review. We'll still read it. Tell us what you think of Shay and Nico's rant and the half-blood with Dr. Thorn. Please.**

**Nic: We like to know our readers are there. Don't hesitate to say something.**

**Nyx: Oh, and the poll is still tied, I think. Again, not our main focus, but it's the second time we've put it up, and to end in a tie again is kind of redundant.**

**Nic: We'll see you guys Monday, then! …Unless you review, and we hear from you sooner..**

***the word 'retarded' was used in as in its musical term, 'retard'; the Italian word for slow or to slow down. That is what it means. We happen to feel perfectly comfortable using it in musical terms, as we have long been involved in the musical world, but find it's other meaning VERY offensive and would never use it in that way. Musical terms only. In fact, we use a lot of musical terms – if you need to know what they mean, leave it in a review or look it up online. They're typically not hard to find.**


	44. Armed

**DISCLAIMER: No, Mr. Rick has not given his series to us. Nor would we accept it until after HoH comes out…**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: Busy, I see. And of course we'll always respect a well-played practical joke. Once, with a little help, 'live rattlesnakes' were dumped on Nic… She's still planning how to get me back for that… *clears throat* Anyway, I am team Jasper. I totally support Jeyna, as it's plausible, but I like Reyna as she is; strong and single. She's a great character. I have texted Nic for her answer, but she hasn't responded yet. I'll let ya know on Thursday what her answer is.**

**emoxkitten – Nyx: :D glad you think so.**

oOo

A banging noise outside, followed by a short yelp, shattered the moment.

Nico stiffened and my heart froze, Întuneric burning like Stygian ice in my pocket. There was naught but silence.

Then, barely audible…

"No hear. Go keep."

He frowned and relaxed. "Moon? What's she doing out there?"

I shook my head, listening. "That's not just her. She's giving orders to someone… You don't think the pack's spying on us, do you?"

"Why would they do that?" he muttered, getting off the bed and striding to the door. "Well, aside from the screwed up Leader."

I chuckled, not even bothering to start that argument, and followed him into the hall. This resulted in me running straight into him. He'd stopped short when he saw the mess.

Plaster was everywhere. Like, _everywhere._ A thin layer of snow on the railing and embedded in the carpet and caking the wolves' fur. Large chunks of wall were lying next to the gaping hole in the next room. Smaller pieces were still entangled everywhere, like a layout of Hydra teeth before they were to be planted. The whole pack was present and moving around the mess, hard at work, picking up pieces and holding tubes of something sticky and holding chunks up into the hole. As a result, dog drool was as abundant as the plaster dust. Amid it all was Moon, beaming as she issued whispered orders.

"What…" Nico gaped, clearly startled.

She opened wide, horrified eyes at us. Silver ears pressed flat on her head. "_Sssssh!"_ In her high-pitched voice, it sounded more like a dying basilisk than a hush. "Mistress can no hear!"

"Why not?" I asked, eyeing the swaying plaster stacks carefully.

She beamed and smiled at us, a wide and frightening display of giant fangs. It was more creepy than joyful. "We will being surprise! Pack fix door!"

"You mean wall," Nico corrected.

The wolf looked over her shoulder at the closing hole. "Um… Well, is hole now. And does not stay. Wall not staying is door, yes?"

"…Yeah. It looks great," I said, taking into account that these determined creatures didn't have thumbs.

"Doesn't Brook read your mind?" Nico muttered.

"She is distracts now, and I being distancing," Moon explained simply. "She knows no. Is surprising!"

"Only if she doesn't hear you," Nico agreed, stepping past the large male wolf and heading downstairs.

Moon's ears when back further and a panicked whine slipped past her throat. "You tell?!"

"I'm sorry, what? I don't speak dog."

I chuckled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Moon. I'll keep him in check."

"Is good at that," she agreed, and turned back to running the suicide operation.

"You know," I whispered when I caught up to Nico, "she's not all that bad."

He snorted. "Please. They're dogs, trying to fix a door. How far are they going to get, that daft?"

"Well, happiness is hard to come by these days, and should they find it…" I shrugged. "First come, first serve."

We found the others gathered around the television, analyzing the footage from the Halloween party. They had smiles and giggles as they watched the black-and-white fuzzes on screen.

"What's that?" Nico asked, frowning. It wasn't the footage from the alley. It was from inside, actually, judging by the pulsing crowd. "What's so funny?"

"Oh. That's the part where you landed on your face," Brook provided, rewinding the clip so he could see.

"Ah," he said, glaring at the screen with narrowed eyes. "I see."

She chuckled and clicked a couple buttons on the remote until we could watch the part where Gaea emerged. There was Dr. Thorn, talking with Hunter. Then thrashing around and snarling. In the background, the silhouetted figure watched silently.

"Right there," Brook said, pausing the screen as Dr. Thorn towered over Nico and stepped out from in front of her. "See it? …Shay?"

At the girl's silence, we turned. She stood shock-still and pale as chalk.

"I know her," she rasped. "I… Why is she…?"

Hunter's eyes lit up. "You do?"

Shay snapped her mouth shut and nodded.

Nico and I exchanged a worried glance.

"We don't know why she showed up," Brook muttered. "The best we can figure is that she's another minion of The Patron; which makes sense, because The Patron has already proven that her next move is here and involves Bree somehow. All we know further is that this character on screen isn't the Daylight Disaster. Unless, of course, you're willing to share."

Shay sighed and shook her head. "No. I don't know who she is, but she's familiar. She's been appearing in my dreams lately. Always has her eyes closed and wears this cloak of shifting dirt. And when she speaks, it's always real slurred."

I relaxed, and then hesitated. "She spoke?"

Gaea had been known to be an evil mastermind, a sleeping nightmare, send demons after us, attempt to crush Nico and I underground, but to _talk? _Oh, no. Didn't see that one coming.

Shay looked away again. "…Yeah. Nothing that makes sense. I don't like to talk about it."

Brook cocked her head to one side curiously. There was a question on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't say it.

To my surprise, neither did Nico. Nobody demanded that Shay tell us, anyway.

Well. Maybe Nico wouldn't. He hadn't been eager with the prophecy dream. And he didn't like the one that'd sent me running, and I hadn't even _mentioned _the fact that the voice was suggesting suicide now…

The odd whirring noise of the DVD player brought me back to the present. It was an annoying sound that it must've decided to make just recently, as it hadn't before. An awkward silence had fallen prey to it.

"Well," Brook said, getting up. "The sun's just setting. I'm going to go see if that stray dog is out across the street."

"I'll come with," I said immediately, looking for something to do. And I'd needed to talk to her, anyway.

Hunter nodded her approval. "Alright. Be back in quick, though. And stay in sight of the windows."

"Will do," we said as we rushed out the door.

oOo

The street was lonely.

The Boulevard of Broken Dreams, it could've been, though it was hard to see it that way while standing next to Brook and Nico's hissy-fit rant still lingering in my mind.

Brook strode across the pavement confidently. "C'mon. I'll introduce you to him. He likes to sleep in this ditch over here."

I followed, scared to make noise and disturb the strange city's nighttime fanfare. But it obviously felt no need to claim this orange-tinted street, where the lights had yet to come on and the sun had yet to fade. Brook disappeared into the deep ditch across the road. I leapt in after her without a second thought.

"Ich. It's all wet down here," I muttered, lifting my feet out of the muck. "You said this dog likes it down here?"

She nodded. "Yeah. He's blind, so I think he likes the shade better. Any sight he has left probably doesn't take kindly to bright lights." Her head, poking out above the street so Hunter could see us easily, turned back towards the windows of the house. "Alright. He tends to come from the north, so let's head that way for a little bit and see if we meet him." And off she went.

I followed.

"So," she said conversationally while I tried to gather my thoughts. "…You okay? After the tunnels?"

"Everyone keeps asking that," I sighed. "Yes, I'm fine. My shoulder's been a sore spot since Annabeth knifed it on Olympus. I'm sure it hurt more than it was worth."

"That's not what I meant. I was talking about you and Nico."

…Oh.

"Okay? Why wouldn't I be?"

She turned to stare at me. "Well, forgive my Artemis side, but he's a guy. Guys are different than you and Hunter and I. They're wired in a different way. It tends to make them think less and do stupid things and want other stupid things and that leads me not to trust them."

The idea nearly made me laugh. "Oh, your Artemis side? Alright, then."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

I thought back to his recent speech and shrugged. "I like him. He's actually pretty smart."

She choked. "_Smart?_ That idiot? He led you into an underground tunnel when we _knew _the earth didn't like us, keeps a kid's trading card game in this little black case at the bottom of his bag, has a pet skull – which, might I reminded you, is an inanimate object – and the other day I caught him comparing an apple to an epitaph. Real genius, that one."

Now I did laugh. "Well, have you ever tasted one? An epitaph?"

"…No…."

"Then don't judge."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Well. Excuse me."

"Hey, he might think you're crazy for mind-reading with Moon. You and I both call the color pink insanity-inducing. People's opinions vary."

"Oh, yeah. Epitaphs taste more like bananas to some people."

"Maybe they do," I retorted.

"Since when does dirt and stone – oh, look! There he is!"

It was a pretty convenient place for her to cut off, but I fell for it and looked ahead. There, lying in the water, was the large dog.

He lifted his head when we approached, flopping ears at attention. Water rippled around short fur and lean muscles as he stood. Sure enough, his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Hey, boy," Brook greeted. She reached out with one hand and set it on his head. "It's Brook."

"…Shouldn't you let him smell your hand first?" I asked.

She shrugged. "He's never shown any interest in sniffing it. In fact, I think he likes this better. With her free hand, she reached into her jacket and held out a piece of ham.

The dog sniffed tentatively, ears flicking. White paws shifted its weight back and forth.

"He's going to bite your hand," I warned. "He can't see the difference between it and the food."

"Oh, psh," she muttered, shaking her head. "Don't listen to her, Reeses. You can find it just fine, can't you? Just by smell? That's a good dog." Sure enough, he licked the ham from her fingers without hesitation. "See? Just like you always do."

"…Reeses?"

"Yeah. Like the candy. Doesn't his pelt remind you of them?"

I studied the brindle patchwork of caramel, brown, and black. "…Yeah, actually. Yes."

She beamed. "I'm proud of that name."

"It's not a wolf name," I recognized, thinking of Moon and Night and Fern.

"No. It's a dog name. But he'll be accepted into the pack just the same, if he wants to. He's proven he's worthy. With a little training, he'll do great. Moon'll welcome any respectable canine."

"Training," I muttered. "Like, to fight?"

"Fight, signals, the basics of pack life. The rest he'll learn by experience. And, of course, the bond. Between pack wolves. Between the pack and myself." She happily fed him another piece of ham. White teeth larger than Moon's swallowed it whole. "Love, you could call it."

Love. I dimly remembered Hunter telling me something about Kronos's warnings about training dogs that way. _To love something is to destroy yourself._

"C'mon," Brook said, waving me closer. "Come pet him."

"Uh…" Tentatively, I held out my hand.

She sighed. "I told you already; he likes it if you rub… his head…"

She trailed off as the old dog shoved his nose into my palm, sniffing intently. I half-expected his eyes to widen in eagerness. But they stayed shut.

I shuddered at his touch. It was cold, colder than ice. His whiskers trailed across my skin like blades.

"Huh. Never seen an animal like you before," Brook chuckled. "Where have you been recently?"

The dog slowly worked his nose up my right arm, using one paw on the side of the ditch to gain leverage. "Uh… My room, my violin, the tunnels, and Nico and I were leaning on one another quite a lot recently…"

"Huh. Odd." Then she beamed. "He must just be special, then. Good boy, Reeses!"

He barked softly at her praise and returned to his four paws in the water. Strange dog, he was. His tail wagged and he lowered his head, content with this little place. Nasty as the water was. I wouldn't be surprised if somebody had dumped a body here recently.

Brook squinted up at the sky. "It's going to be sundown soon. We ought to get inside before Hunter starts to worry."

"Hunter's not the one to worry," I sighed, glancing at the dog one last time, but he had begun to trot off to the north, head held high. "…Actually, I was thinking…"

She sighed. "You came out here to talk to me about your fight with her, didn't you?"

I turned to stare at her. "Fight? No, Brook, that's not it."

"You _are _fighting again. I know it. I see the way you look at one another."

"Brook, you're over-worried. That's actually what I wanted to talk about. We're not fighting at all. She's just…"

Brook stared at the muddy ground. "She's worried about becoming her father, isn't she?"

Silence.

She snorted. "Well. I got that much right."

I sighed. "We don't fight about it. We did at first, because she was trying to convince herself otherwise, but she doesn't anymore. She's admitted she's scared."

"And you try to help her?" Brook asked, starting the trek back to our starting point in the ditch.

Another heavy sigh. "I try. I really do. But she's… It's _Kronos._ I can point out things that Hunter's been since before she met him, but it doesn't work. Either she swears it's been influenced or something she inherited from him genetically. So pointing out good Hunter things doesn't work, and good Kronos things… Well… That was always something she did. She always told us that he was more than what met the eye. That there was something great in him. I've always thought that the day she finally realized who he really was, it'd be a happy thing, but if it's turned out like this…"

"Yeah," Brook sighed. "…I can see that. And the helplessness doesn't help, either."

"Right." I hoisted her up over the edge of the ditch, though I'm sure she could've managed just fine herself, and she bent over to pull me after her. "Anyway. I came out here to talk about you. Are you alright?"

"Hm?"

"Like… gods. There's Olympus gone and being here over the Underworld, which is a death sentence for demigods that aren't me or Hunter or Nico, and… and Ethan…"

She stopped, in the middle of the road, and did not turn to look at me.

"Brook… I'm sorry. I should've known. I should've asked sooner, made sure you were okay. You're just so quiet, and not in the way I am, and I should've known that you tend to worry, and-"

"Bree. How old are you?"

"…Thirteen."

"How old will I be turning in less than a month?"

"Twelve."

"And how old is Hunter?"

"…Nearly sixteen."

"Which of us is your age closer to?"

"Yours."

"So why is it that you and Hunter act like the parents? Why are you two at some higher level of command than me? Why am I the child?"

I had no answer.

"It's because you're mature for your age. So am I, but you're… different. But the main reason is that you and her have known each other for so much longer. You two have been one unit since birth. You've been – and forgive my metaphorical term – 'spouses' for a long while. So when I came along, it was more like an adoption than getting another step-sister."

I was silent. "…Brook, none of us thinks of you as separate. Or different. I know you've only been here for a few years, but it's so permanent-"

"Exactly. You forget. I didn't live with you two all my life. The concept of sisters is relatively new to me. And yes, yes, I'll admit that I worry. But I won't say it's unreasonable. You have _no _idea what I went through that year on Mount Othrys while you two screamed at one another. While you two cried in silence and me? Me? I kept turning around expecting to see Ethan come walking up. Because I hadn't seen it. He wasn't dead to me then."

"Brook, you push yourself so hard, too hard sometimes, the way Hunter and I have taught you, but if you ever need to talk, just ask-"

"And you also forget that I'm armed to get over it much faster than either of you. My father died when I was young, remember? Killed by a wild jackal on his way home? Took a forbidden shortcut through the woods? Turned out there was a monster waiting for him that night?"

I fell silent.

"Bree, it was hard. But if you must worry about me, worry about the Underworld or my paranoia. But _don't _worry about Ethan. Grief is an old friend of mine. I have made my peace with the life he left behind. I have already said my goodbyes and made my vows and I will never, ever forget him. It's because of my father, and for that, I'll be ever more in debt to that man. Rather, if you're the one needing help with Ethan…"

At last she turned, the orange light making the red in her chocolate curls shine and her moon-colored eyes become tainted with blood. "…I'd be willing to help."

I stared at her still, taken by the words. Better armed. Having lost her father…

I smiled and held out my arms. "Come here."

She happily lunged forward and squeezed the air out my lungs like the fate of the world depended on it.

"I'm sorry if our doubt bothers you. But you are the child of the group. Whether you like it or not. And we're so proud of the way you handle it, and the way you handle not-so-childish things. Don't… Don't think you have to hide things from us, alright?"

She pulled back and raised an eyebrow at me. "Me? Hide things?"

"Like your worry. Or your fear of being above Hades."

"Psh." She turned and strode once more, undaunted, for the house. "Like I'm scared of a bit of large game miles beneath my feet. If I am, feel free to worry about it, but don't bother fuss. I've got it under control. S'not like I'm some principal-lacking, un-self-conscious, easy-going _male._ I can take care of myself."

I wasn't sure if I was going to groan or smile. Eventually I settled for shaking my head and jogging after her. "Now, there's my little soldier."

oOo

**Nyx: As fond as I am of Brook, I am glad that these scenes are over. There is too little action in this one, yes? Well, next chapter, there is plenty. And the ending will be chapter after chapter of it. Yay!**

**Nic: FINALY.**

**Nyx: Yeah. Finally. But it's epic, guys. It'll blow your socks off.**

**Nic: Review if you can't wait! All feedback is appreciated, but in particular we'd like to know what you think of Gaea's plot and the half-blood that is with the Manticore and, for those who might've guessed it, the Daylight Disaster's identity. All will be revealed soon enough…**

**Nyx: Kolkolkol. We'll see you guys Thursday!**


	45. Deception

**DISCLAIMER: Guess who owns PJatO? Right! Me!**

**Just kidding. Rick Riordan does.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: :D clever! Oh, and Nic is team Jeyna. She is not too fond of Jason or Piper and thinks they're not as well designed as the other characters. I agree with her to an extent.**

**Emoxkitten - :3**

oOo

We returned to find quite the… eccentric scene.

My first impression was that it was quiet. Too quiet. Especially with Hunter in the room.

"…Where'd you get it?" Nico asked Shay in a tone that told me he didn't want to know the answer. He was curled up on the couch and staring at something on the carpet. The DVD player was still making its annoying, agonized whirring noise.

Shay shrugged. "I, uh, took it as a reward for saving the appliance store from this giant smoky fallen angel thing. They didn't know there was one there, but they don't know I took it, either, so it's all good."

Next to her stood Hunter, a pillar of perfect posture and curious golden eyes. She, too, was staring at the floor.

Then I caught sight of what was sure to be our doom; something hidden behind her back.

Golden eyes met mine and winked.

_Great gods of Olympus, if you have but one chance to get around Zeus's barricade, take it now and save us…_

Brook skipped ahead of me and peered over the back of the couch at whatever held Nico's attention. "Oooh. That's cool."

"It's evil," Nico corrected.

"It is not," Hunter scoffed. "Don't judge the poor little creature. What'd it ever do to you?"

He narrowed his eyes but didn't spare her a single glance. "It's not a _creature;_ it's a freakish abomination that will only take orders for so long. This is what happens when humans – and half-bloods – try to play God."

"Is it a cell phone?" I guessed, joining him. On the floor before the couch marched a little metallic circle, maybe twice the size of my hand and pretty thick. It ate the inches and seconds away with that infernal humming noise I'd pinned on the DVD player.

"No. I call it Bob," Shay said simply.

"It's a _robot,"_ Nico protested.

"It's company," she countered.

He scowled and pointed at the white skull on the table, who as a matter of fact was looking quite glad to be home again. "_That _annoying little jerkwad is company. What you call 'Bob' is unnaturally animated metal and barely contained electricity; nothing but an accident waiting to happen."

Shay was beginning to get angry now. She frowned at him and jabbed a finger at his little white friend. "That? That's a dead person."

"Exactly," he drawled coldly, still glaring at Machine Bob.

She sighed and knelt beside her company. "It likes to wander around my campsites. I let it loose and see what trouble it gets into. It's got a roam setting, where it'll be random until it hits something and turns around, or a straight setting where it'll just bull-headedly charge at anything. Believe it or not, it can get pretty entertaining. You guys should watch it."

"What mode is it in now?" Brook asked curiously.

"Wander."

Nico snarled and spat. "Then why's it stalking me?"

"It must like you, Nico," Hunter said with a demonic grin.

Ah. The thing behind her back must've been Bob's remote.

Nico, who apparently hadn't noticed, scooted farther back into the couch cushions and glowered.

I studied the offending hell machine. It didn't look so bad. Though that noise was pretty annoying.

Overhead, the lights flickered.

Hunter looked up. "Hm. How is the weather, guys?"

"Clear," Brook and I answered at the same time. Then, just Brook, "Maybe-"

The lights went out.

The whole house was plunged into blackness. Shadows so fast and so deep even I didn't like it. Empty space and the utter darkness whispered of hidden demons and hungry demons and the scraped voice from my dream. Of a deathtrap unseen inches ahead. A gaping chasm.

Bob kept whirring, undaunted.

"Aha!" Nico suddenly burst. "See?! _Phil _agrees with me! Phil! Turn it off!"

"Psh, it's fine. Even in the dark. It has infrared vision so it can see almost anything at any time," Hunter said nonchalantly. "Especially people. It can find us if it needs to."

"Alright, alright!" I said, lifting one hand until it found Brook's small fingers draped over the back of the couch. As well as trying to dispel the memories of Ethan that the touch brought. "That's enough! Since there's no storm outside, it was probably just an overload or something like that. There ought to be a box in the basement. Nico, let's go check it."

You know, before Hunter got any more creative.

He growled. "Where is it?"

"It's still in front of the couch. I think," Hunter offered. There was a soft _pat pat pat_ as she searched the floor with a boot. "Well, or not…"

I sighed. "Come on." I grabbed his wrist and marched into the kitchen.

He followed closely, moving shadows swathing at his feet.

The basement door swung open at my command. I hesitated there, lingering over the dark empty air beneath. Great gods, why hadn't I counted the stairs before…

"Go," Nico hissed. "I can hear it following us."

I dimly wondered if I could ask Ethan to watch over me. Didn't seem possible. I held my breath and took the first step.

At the bottom of the stairs, the door closed behind us. After that there was naught a sound but the soft _ting, ting, ting_ as Bob ran into it constantly from the other side.

"It _is _following us," Nico breathed, silent beside me. If it weren't for his warmth, I wouldn't have known he was there.

I sighed and walked down the hallway, glad there was no more room beneath me than that of my own height. "You do know it's Hunter, right? Shay lied. There's a remote with manual controls."

"…No, I didn't know that," he said. Still, he followed closely.

I held my left hand out to the wall and let it drag across the smooth paint, knowing the box was somewhere on this side. I'd seen it before while we were cleaning. Not even our footsteps made sound. I was even beginning to see, my eyes making out the slightest contours of things, eyes adjusting slowly. The shadows told me even more.

"Here it is," I murmured, stopping and fiddling for the knob.

"…Why?" Nico asked.

"Why what?"

"Why did you ruin Hunter's fun? From what I've seen, you enjoy watching her games."

"That I do," I agreed. "And your face was hilarious. But…"

But the ecstasy at Brook's resolutions did not last. But the conversation and my nightmares and thoughts of the almighty stars and the dark, menacing stairs were lacing the air to my right with acid. But I was too depressed at the moment to care. To enjoy my brother's squirming.

"But I decided we deserved a break after the tunnels," I lied, and pulled the case open.

Tunnels. I briefly flashed on the stories he'd told me. About Minos's treachery.

Something stirred in my chest. Something big. Something that tasted sweet, too sweet…

"What're you waiting for?" Nico asked.

"Nothing. Just trying to read the switches."

"…You can't read English, can you?"

"I can! …Most of it… Admittedly in the light, but…"

I could actually see him pale in the low light. "…Then are you sure you should be messing with that thing…?"

"Please. It's a couple buttons. Hardly that death machine banging on the door."

"But it's electric…"

"Nico, the reason the box is here is so that it _can't _shock you when you go to fix it. And I've seen Granny do this a dozen times. That old house in Oswego is on its last legs."

"….But…"

As if on cue, a small blue spark blinded us, its faded image dancing long after it'd faded.

"Don't touch it," Nico said stiffly.

"Watch me." I daringly poked the first switch I could make out.

"No!" he cried, honest fear in his voice.

Above our heads, the white fluorescent lights came to life.

I turned to stare at him. "See? It's fine."

He did not look it. His breaths came in hardly controlled gasps and fear had engraved itself in his eyes. One hand was splayed tensely on the wall behind him.

"…You okay?"

"Fine," he rasped. "…Are… are you…?"

"Dude, it's a button. I'm fine."

He turned and without another word stalked for the stairs.

I shrugged it off and followed on his heels. Probably some story behind this, too. Like the Ghost King story and Minos and the Labyrinth.

There it was again. That tingling feeling in my chest, amid the grief. Small but strong. Tiny but oh so bright. Almost scarily so. The power it held. Like the tiny human body of Julius Caesar standing amid the vast and hostile lands of Turkey with but three words on his lips; _veni, vidi, vici._

_I came, I saw, I conquered._

I turned to ask Ethan what it was.

And suddenly, I knew.

It hit me like a train. For a moment, I stopped and swayed, balance stolen faster than my breath had been. No way. No freaking way.

My gaze found my brother's retreating back. Should I ask? Did I dare? What made this case special?

Resolve hardened like a contact lens left out on the Texas sidewalk. Like diamond under rocks. But it burned, it burned and burned, and tasted sweet in a way that was not death. _Ethan _made this case special. He deserved the home he'd won.

Up the stairs, behind my brother, careful footsteps and careful thoughts. How to ask? He was the Ghost King, though; surely I couldn't make this more awkward than a spirit or two. And I knew him so well now. I knew the magic. And he knew me; if he could help, why wouldn't he? He knew how much it hurt. He knew how to save what I missed.

He stepped gingerly over Bob and let the machine crash itself down the stairs, screaming and cracking all the way down. Such tact resulting in such violence. He was so calm it worried me just a little. But no; my decision had been made and my mind set. I held the door open as he went through and followed five steps behind. Giving Nico some space didn't seem to be a bad idea.

In the other room, the others whispered softly to one another. They had not heard Bob cry out.

Nico sighed and leaned heavily on the counter, taking the weight off his injured leg and letting his head sag between his shoulders. He stayed like that for a while.

"…Hey, Nico?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

He sighed. "So long it's worth the time, I don't see why not." He lifted his head and shook the hair from his face but stopped to stare out the kitchen window, through the glass and the blinds at the wreckage of the backyard. The great scar Gaea had ripped open and closed. The scar we'd barely escaped from.

It was strange, that she'd wanted us dead and had us in her hands, yet we still breathed.

I shook the thought aside and dove straight in. "That spell Minos taught you… You don't think that it might… work… on Ethan?"

Silence.

"The one that'd bring him back?"

"I understood."

Now I fell quiet. His voice was low and cold, like freezing saltwater poured down my spine. Like the distant thunder of a far-off ice storm. Colder than the minds of ghosts and Kronos's scythe and the hate I had read from my father through the shadows.

Colder than any hateful look he'd given me.

"What," he asked in that frostily calm tone, "the _hell _inclined you to ask that?"

My mind scrambled. I hadn't been this scared of him since… Since he'd been a raven stalking my dreams. Since he'd held Stygian iron at my throat. "I… uh…"

What had I done wrong?

"Have you _lost your mind?_" His voice rose.

I didn't like that. My own anger built inside my throat, hot like coals. I spat the words out as if that were literal. "Lost my mind? I _asked _a _question."_

"Have you learned _nothing _from all those days I spent in that damned winter haphazard teaching? Or did I waste my time?"

Waste his time. Like he had anything better to do. "Well, I learned that you're a bullheaded idiot. I'm crazy? _You're _the one who talks to some old skull and thinks he hears something back!"

He ignored that. "I should've known. It _was _a waste."

"_It! Was! Not!"_

"And now you're here. Great. I've brought a liability into our midst when we can least afford it. Should've known better than that."

"What?! A liabil… You know what?! Yeah! It's your fault!"

"I didn't-"

"You came every day!" I shrieked. He fell silent. "You showed up and started to talk and then shared Shane with me, and you stayed for movie night, and you saved my life and I saved yours and I lied for you and you brought us here! You said you'd have us along! I stayed with you in the tunnels and you dragged my deadweight along when I got hurt and shared your past and gods damn it I made you_ smile_!"

He didn't speak.

"I made you _smile,_ Nico! And you… you made the same of me. I wasn't as scared when you were there. I honestly started to care. After all that's happened, I cared. After we dragged ourselves through all that, don't you _dare _tell me it was all just a waste of time!"

"I never _wanted _you here!"

Silence. The whispering in the other room stopped.

He turned to glare at me, and I knew I was done for. His eyes blazed themselves blind with fury. Even his face had left behind its apathetic mask and was contorted into anger. His eyebrows slammed together and his mouth opened so wide it had to hurt. Yet open it he did. Worse things still came from it. "I _never _wanted this! I didn't want to _meet _you, let alone train! Let alone have to tolerate it every day, for hours at a time, for gods know how long. You were never supposed to even know my _name,_ and I can't repeat enough how much I wished you _hadn't!"_

His name. I'd learned it from Ethan, when he'd come back from a quest in the Underworld. It had stuck in my mind ever since.

Everything since then… a lie?

No. Not everything. The contempt-filled looks had been earnest.

"Then why?" I asked, too furious to raise my voice. "Then why was it okay to toy with me like that?"

"I took the job to make Father happy, alright?!"

I flinched. Of course. Nico had always been his favorite. Gods forbid they ever lose whatever special bond they had. Even if it meant…

He stepped forward, hands clenched into fists so hard I saw blood dripping onto the floor. "I shouldn't have taken it. I should've listened. He warned me, too. He said I didn't have to do it. But I knew I did. So I said yes. I knew I'd regret it, but I said yes."

Regret it. The words actually stung that time. I tried to yell back, but a thick ball had gathered in my throat, and wouldn't move if Gaea herself shoved at it.

He went on. Stalking forward, eyes burning like those of a starving demon. "I should've never tried. And this is exactly why."

What had I done wrong, again?

"If you want us to leave," I managed, "we will. You can solve this and save the world on your own."

"By all means, _go!_ I don't want to see you here!" He raised one shaking hand, finger slicing through air and wall and statue to all but break the door open. "Just get out before you screw something else up!"

I stared in shock. Unable to move. Scared that he'd slit my throat if I tried. You just don't mess with Nico when he's like that.

His arm shook harder, eyes burning hotter. He had turned a sickly grey color that reminded me of ash. The kind of ash that's left when a house was half-burned down, white and mixed with the plaster dust. Screaming of something left undone.

Of something _come _undone.

At last he yanked his scalding eyes away and stormed out, footsteps so loud I swear the house was lucky it didn't shatter.

I just stared after him, too full of my own emotions to even continue wondering about what I'd done.

…Idiot… If he'd never wanted, why… I hadn't been trying to kill anybody… He couldn't be right, could he? That I'd screwed something up?... Maybe if I left, Gaea would come with me… No, no, maybe she'd stay and swallow him whole…

I could live with that.

Before I could burst, my savior came. Hunter didn't even pause in the doorway but came in, silent and sure, to land her hands on my shoulders. And there she stood without a word or whisper.

It wasn't until she wiped it away did I realize the tear on my cheek.

How could he say that? After the passion in the tunnels and all the stories? After we'd come to know one another so well?

Or had I never known him at all?

"Bree," Hunter said softly.

I shook my head. "Don't. It's his fault. He's the one who likes to play this game. I've just been dragged into it."

"That doesn't mean it's not your problem to deal with, though."

"Alright. Let's leave, then. That's solve it."

"You know he didn't mean that."

"He certainly did!"

"Bree, listen to me. I've seen the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him. You didn't mean half the things you said, either. Just give him some time to cool down, alright? Revisit it later?"

Revisit. Like we had after all the fights before? Like when I thought I had found some sort of peace with him? After he swore he was done with the games?

"No," I rasped. Too many tears had fallen for her to save them now. "No. Let's just leave. We're not welcome here."

Without another word, I strode for the door.

She sighed. "Are you really going to leave without your violin?"

I flinched. Another thing he had lied about. But I did indeed stop; I couldn't abandon my dear friend to this desolate, horrid place. This place interwoven with secrets and lies and light so thick it could hide the shadows and smother the stars.

But I couldn't go up there while he was fuming.

With a weary sigh, I sat on the couch. "Fine. I'll get it when he comes down."

She groaned and landed on the cushion beside me. "Well. That's time to mull things over, at least."

Brook snorted. "Huh. Mull things over. She's right; we _should _leave, and if he really hadn't meant it, he can feel guilty later and pay the price for letting his anger get the better of him."

All the wonder in his eyes. His love for the dead. If he hadn't really cared enough for me to share any of the truth, had that been a lie, too?

Straight down to his rant that'd been so inspiring earlier?

"Hey," Shay said. "Has anyone seen Bob?"

"No," I spat, hugging my knees.

She gave me a funny look and plopped down on a chair. Phil watched us solemnly. "What'd you say that made him so mad, anyway?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but my eye caught Brook. And Hunter.

And something from deep, deep inside told me I shouldn't say it in front of them.

"Nothing worth that treatment," I muttered. "He should've known that I wouldn't mind the truth…"

Just then, the lights blinked out again.

Shay frowned. "What on earth is on that keeps shorting it?"

"Nothing," Hunter said. Then she stood abruptly. "Guys-"

Before she could finish, every single window was blown in, and the safe-house was swarmed with Venti.

oOo

**Nyx: I forgot about that scene…**

**Nic: There is action, I guess. In the last sentence.**

**Nyx: Please review and tell me how I did, guys. I assume you all know what set Nico off? This was very rushed and I'm worried it's not up to what it ought to be. If I decide it's not, I will rewrite it before I post the next chapter.**

**Nic: You still have other things to rewrite…**

**Nyx: Yes, yes, the first two chapters of Rebels. I'm working on it. Thanks to our reviewers, and please do review again! Happy… er, almost Friday.**


	46. The Fanfare

**DISCLAIMER: Guess who still holds PJatO.**

**Yep. Rick Riordan. Clearly.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: Your question and request are actually quite tied to one another. You see, when this story was written, Bree's POV came well before Hunter's. Hunter's POV was actually what was originally posted on this site, under the story, "Daughter of Time". But it came along slowly and though we have considered continuing it, Bree's POV works just as well or even better. And, honestly, between you and me (and whoever's smart enough to read this)… There are a few things Hunter might have to hide that'll make the story better. Be a pity if they were released before she wished them to. Once we deleted Daughter of Time, it no longer put on the pressure to match Rebel's first to chapters to it. And since the first chapter is WICKED old and the second just isn't organized (we mean Massacre and Long-Lost Relatives, not the prologue), they are due to be rewritten. They are no longer tied down. But I've been so busy with Rejects and studying and life that I have yet to put them down on keyboard. But the revision is all done in my head. And, if you don't mind me asking, what was the 'uh-oh' referencing? Nico's anger or some clue that gave away a character's identity or something else entirely? I couldn't tell. And Nic's computer has gone through some viruses since that was written, but if you ask her nicely, she might doc exchange those two chapters of Daughter of Time with you. :)**

oOo

It was a sound like no other. Like the world itself had shattered. Shards of glass came flying at us, bright glints of the city's blazing fires among the black smoke and white, hot sparks of demons. Wind leapt into action like a cat pouncing on a mouse from its all but nonexistent hiding place in the gorse.

Such sharp claws the cat did have.

"Stay together!" Hunter screamed above the wind, taking place at our head, closest to the door. Anonymous glowed like candlelight.

The day I'd ignore an order from her was the day Kronos took his kids bowling and the Fates handed over their loom to Arachne, and so I fell in behind her, sword raised.

And I was eager to start. At last, I had something I could take out my anger on.

Glass dug into my skin first. Hot strips of pain and the wet feeling of fresh blood. Its smell drowned by ozone. And Întuneric in my hands.

One demon shot for me, nothing but a white smile and cold black mist. I rolled to one side and let the shadows fly. Not expecting me to strike as I retreated, it screamed and burst into tatters.

I was up again in moments.

Somewhere nearby, I felt Hunter's beat, not anything like the strong and balanced beacon that Ethan's had once been but more of a convenient summoning. The pull and push of her scythe. I fell into rhythm and worked around her.

Demons were streaming in from the kitchen now. From somewhere in there, there was a great crashing noise as something exploded.

The sink, probably. Shay mentioned something about not controlling her powers well.

The sight of the kitchen did me a load of good. I could still hear Nico's furious yells echoing off the walls, in my head, loud enough to vibrate in my fingertips.

Întuneric hummed.

I yelled in anger and charged at another monster so fast it, too, dispersed into the wind.

There was a furious howl as a silver wolf, a replica of Moon, slammed into another that'd come at my back. Brook.

Harsh words echoed in my head and I weaved around her, moving mindlessly for the next.

The energy in the fight was just endless. I swear, something had sparked in me, something deeper than petty hot anger. Something cold and dangerous. We leapt around each other, under the coffee table, over the couches. Danced into the kitchen and over the growing pools of water. Moved like…

…Like our lives depended on it.

I didn't care. It wasn't the fight's usual urge to keep moving; it went deeper, and that was okay, because Nico had left me very much to seethe over.

I saw him once. Doing his own thing, going against Hunter's orders. Let him run. Let him loose the fight for us. I wasn't about to save him this time.

Fury. Every last dark creature would pay for what he'd said.

It wasn't until I slipped on the slick floors at the top of the basement stairs that I touched down on reality again.

As I slammed into the floor – thank the gods I hadn't fallen the other way – I saw the statue of Thanatos, wings and arms spread wide as if to hide something behind him. The basement door.

Three things occurred to me. One; this was why the fight was so energized. Why every cell screamed for action, else they'd explode. The statues' magic was in me.

Two; they had attacked during the night, the time of the shadows and the almighty stars. Our base. Our guarded base, with guardian statues and a stronghold and with two Titan children present.

Three; they were winning.

We had been backed through the living room, past the kitchen, and too the basement door.

Something sliced at my right shoulder, something sharp and too knowledgeable of my weak spots and something way, way too painful. This was what saved me.

You aren't supposed to think when you fight. The skeletal predator rules. You must compromise to live beneath it if you want to live.

Rage boiled inside me. I was tired, I hurt, I'd been shunned and humiliated and betrayed, and I was sick and tired of demons invading my home. Oswego. Mount Othrys.

This safe house.

No. This was where I drew the line.

Driven once more by madness, I lunged for the nearest wolf.

_Wolf?_

It whirled and snapped, all yellow crooked fangs and blazing red eyes. It lunged without second thought.

A silver blur slammed into it. Moon pinned the larger, rabid creature against the wall and sank her teeth into its mangy scruff. Black, sticky blood splattered across Thanatos's statue.

I rolled to my feet and sank Întuneric into the flesh of another crimson-eyed dog. Then at a Ventus. It passed through harmlessly. The demon snarled, fingers sparking-

"FALL BACK!" Hunter's order. I didn't question. I shadow traveled down the stairs and made my stand there, snarling up the hill at another demon wolf. Hunter killed it before it could charge.

"But… They'll have the higher ground!" Shay yelped, sending a nervous glance down my way. The silver form of Brook leapt over her and joined me.

Hunter snarled at her. "Newsflash; they _fly._ The term _bottleneck _mean anything to you?" And with a flying leap, she flipped off the kitchen floor and stuck the landing behind me.

A Ventus shrieked and charged, dodging Mνήμη and brushing furiously past the Thanatos statue. At the ashy marble's touch, it disintegrated.

It reminded me. _Why are they on a suicide mission?_

Well, we had been pushed back this far. Maybe it wasn't suicide.

Nico snarled and lunged for a wolf. It barreled into him and sent them both tumbling down the stairs, separated by one particularly hard impact. My half-brother rolled off and sprung to his feet lightly. The wolf snarled and flinched as it stood.

Above it, the dark angel form of a Ventus smiled. Its white flashes of lighting were the only source of sight; white light and black shadows jumping and dancing like they too were vying for their lives.

With a demonic shriek, it led the charge.

oOo

The world was sound and wind and frozen-frame images.

Demons shrieked and the air howled in the darkness. The wind was a tauntingly icy blast, grazing my skin and yanking on my jacket. The sound of flapping wings was all I had to tell their approach by.

A blue spark. Telltale little flaw. I screeched and lunged for it, desperate to make it sputter and disappear before it made the same of me.

Now and then, the whole hallway would light. The deadly lightning would splash across a wall or the carpet or even the ceiling, and the world would turn white. White with black shadows. Just for a moment; it would highlight a frozen picture of Hunter balanced precariously and the wide jaws of Brook and the determined scowl of Shay and the silent, roiling gaze of Bree. Întuneric edged in light and Anonymous gleaming like diamond.

Then the light would vanish, and the world would start again.

The black whirlwind went by as fast as the name implies. The absence of air burned in my chest and the salty tang of blood had settled happily on my tongue. Instinct and hard-earned knowledge moved my feet as I danced between sparks.

Yet it wasn't enough.

First I saw the electric box Bree had messed with. Then the final storage room. We were being pushed back. Or maybe Hunter was purposely leading them back to the stronghold, so the demons would remained bottlenecked but we'd have more room. I didn't know.

Self-sufficiency is a hard habit to break. Especially when you have no inclination to part with it.

I did my best to ignore Bree, but she constantly was there, a light between the shaded demons. I couldn't help but wonder what I'd turned her into.

I could still hear that harmless little question. Her hopeful voice.

_What have I done?_

In answer, I yelled and shoved my sword through a Ventus. It wasn't enough. Never enough. I itched for another target. Luckily, there was no shortage.

I dodged another creepy wolf – I could've sworn I'd seen Hunter run it through already – and felt its claws graze my shirt, somewhere between the wind and the screams and the blood, I felt rock beneath my feet.

The stronghold.

On cue, green fire exploded around the room, illuminating the overbearing sneer of a Ventus inches from my face.

But I had room to maneuver now. I shadow traveled and kept nimble feet, the pattern of a fight familiar now. Familiar but desperate. The ground was falling away beneath my feet, us demigods being pushed further and further back. The statues of Hades and Persephone weren't enough to save us.

The increasing static warned of another demon on my heels. I turned and slashed and ran straight through it, lucky that it was attempting to get away rather the electrocute something. I caught sight of Hunter and the others bunched together farther up, near the statues, but it was pointless. Demons were getting around them and approaching from behind.

I dodged another wolf and yelled, praying it'd work. Sure enough, I felt the ground begin to tremble. Gaea split open across the chasm's center with an agonized yell. Out poured warriors made of bone.

They didn't speak to me, or communicate, but they could sense my hate for the demons. They didn't wait for orders.

I turned, facing two more wolves and a Ventus. The dogs stalked around in circles and snarled. The winged demon took to the air and waited.

Not good. I was easily within striking range, and cornered-

-And my newfound friends took care of the wolves for me, knocking them aside. Crude, salvaged Celestial bronze knives gripped in expert skeletal hands dug deep into tangled wolf fur. I leapt aside and swung furiously at the Ventus now lunging downwards. My sword passed through it harmlessly.

No, I wouldn't have that. Anger boiled over and I fired at it with shadows.

_Maybe I shouldn't be using magic so freely…_

I didn't care. I was just too happy to have something familiar and safe to do.

Well. Safe in one way.

Another Ventus flew in from the side. I leapt back and sent Mνήμη through it as it passed. Lightning turned the green light to blazing, painful white. A sharp buzzing sensation took over my feet.

Shocked, literally and figuratively, I yelled and stumbled, but my numb feet didn't fare well. I tipped over and crashed into a pile of boxes and onto the hard rock floor. Shattering wooden planks and the impact on the ground left me winded and staring blankly at the fuzzy ceiling.

But I knew I couldn't stay down. Without catching my breath, I scrambled to my feet. Or, tried, anyway. It didn't work well. There was a black flash as the Ventus knocked me into the heavy wooden boxes once more. The shrieks and blood-scent of the fight vanished, and for a moment, I saw stars…

…My hand clenched on the nearest thing. A gun, I remembered. I could feel the scattered bullets and extra weapons wedged painfully against my shoulders. Without thinking, I cocked it – yes! It was loaded! – and aimed it at the approaching demon.

Too late, of course. It slammed me into the crates and yanked the gun from my hand. Hot pinpricks of pain, little buzzing sensations, made the air on my neck next to its fingers stand on end. My heart began to race. I knew that feeling all too well…

But it, much like myself, had a love for irony. Or perhaps it was just sadistic. Rather than electrocute me, it held my own gun to my forehead and pulled the trigger.

And burst into smoke.

I smiled and bolted for my sword. I _knew _those things had had a purpose!

Just in case, I grabbed two more trick guns and slipped them into my jacket before ripping freely at the next wolf.

Up ahead, the crowd was beginning to thin. The golden glow of Anonymous was somewhat of a beacon.

We could turn this thing around yet.

oOo

Battle-high.

The illusion of flesh and rippling muscles and fur and gleaming, polished fangs. Power and ferocity and so ambitious. The illusion the predator's skeleton cast upon itself. That predator and its illusions come from and live within us. It's a part of us.

At least, a part of me. Our close-knit unit of me, Hunter, Brook, Shay, and the friendly non-demonic wolf pack were winning. I knew like the back of my hand where to be and what to do and exactly where Hunter would be. Where her scythe would appear. Where Brook's fangs would next show themselves. Shay was harder to predict and twice got in my way, but I knew how to handle that. Together, we unleashed every ounce of fury on the monsters.

And the monsters cowered beneath the might of it.

Demons are demons and I will never consider a fight with them the same as I do a fight with other demigods, as I had participated in during the Titan War, but the predator is still there. Rather, there are two; demigods and demons both hunt when required. And I felt no guilt, even afterwards, at seeing them flinch in pain or fade away or hearing tortured screams.

Rather, I felt the opposite.

Eventually, at some point halfway through the stronghold, our resolve became too much. Or maybe their numbers were not replenishing right under the presence of the statues. But they began to stagger back. We howled victoriously and shoved and pushed and chased them back, across the stronghold, through the hallway, up the stairs, past the flooded kitchen…

They moved almost like slaves under the command of a whip.

I snapped my own weapon eagerly into the shoulder of another demon wolf. It yelped and fell back, stalking, mouth foaming. But it wasn't enough of a stand to stop our advance.

We pulled one another along, shoving the demons with us. Hunter and Brook and me and Shay. Even Moon's pack held the line perfectly with us. This dance became a dress rehearsal.

Somewhere, I was aware of Nico still fighting on his own. I think he was stationed at the ruined kitchen window.

I drove Întuneric through the last Ventus and followed Hunter as she charged the rest out the door.

"Yes!" came her cry of victory. The city's yellow light burst into reality, and no longer did we depend on the moody flash of a Ventus for sight. It stained the dead grass and highlighted the faded letters on the funeral home's sign. The demons ran out, shrieking and limping, and we sprinted after-

-And skidded to a halt on the driveway. Nearby, Nico, too, came to a frantic stop.

The yard was flooded with demons.

I gaped. Why… There were so many… Why hadn't they all charged the house…?

And then I heard it. The flapping of wings. More like a buzzing sound, really. I lifted my head and watched as the bulky shape of the winged drakon descended, landing firmly on the roof of the abandoned house next door. Singles and wood and plaster popped and crashed beneath the great burden. Massive claws tore rifts in the walls and even in the earth as the house caved in on itself. Amazingly, the first floor remained standing. Dust went flying everywhere, concealing the drakon to but a shadow as it settled quiet happily on the rubble. Its long tail swished back and forth across the scar Gaea had made behind the funeral home. Its head, attaching to an arching throat, planted itself at the edge of our driveway and hissed.

I looked at its nostrils, already frozen stiff though I hadn't met its eyes. Because I had no doubt that Gaea had healed them.

The drakon seemed to chuckle, sending great drops of goo splattering on the pavement. A massive pink tongue the size of an Amazon python slithered out to great us.

There were footsteps as Nico made his way too us, clearly finding strength in numbers.

I fixed the back of his head under a glare. The sly little traitor didn't deserve our help.

But he was a demigod; he was a reject; and I had not lied when I said he and I owed each other our lives. As much as I hated him at the moment – truly hated, a deep and painful throbbing in my bones – we were indeed allies.

Still, for good measure. "Still want us to leave?" I spat.

"Why, I'm not the one trying to stop you, am I?" he replied coldly without sparing me a glance.

Hmph.

"Hello, dear children!"

I flinched at the familiar French accent. The panic of the fight had not faded, and I wished so badly I could scamper up the walls to the roof where he was and kill him then and there, but the snarling of the demons on the lawn kept me rooted to the grass. The Manticore perched itself above the funeral home's door and smiled with pointed teeth. "Long time, no see!"

"I could've waited another, oh, millennia or so," Hunter muttered. "I'd hate to be of bother and pull you from your… home."

The cat's smile vanished. "Well. Tartarus, at least _is _a home. Where do _you _belong, Daughter of Time? With your father? With his enemies?" He licked his lips eagerly. "I'm willing to give you one in my stomach, if you wish."

She scowled and raised her scythe, but the drakon hissed again, and she quickly lowered it.

Nico glowered at the demon. "What do you want, Dr. Thorn?"

Shingles slid off the roof as the cat leapt down, giant tail skimming the sidewalk. "Oh, it is not I, children. If it were up to me, you would all be dead. But there is a higher level of command."

The drakon purred its approval.

"Please. The overgrown salamander?" Hunter asked, incredulous.

I snickered. The drakon hissed.

Dr. Thorn sighed and sat down. "No. You must forgive me; I was ordered to wait for his arrival. However, there seems to be some sort of error. He still has, oh, five minutes until our designated time. We must sit and wait for the sad little creature. Pity." He took another step forward. "One of you made an escape attempt as we sat here, and I had no choice…"

She leveled her scythe. "Don't-"

Before she could finish, he leapt at Nico, lion fangs spread wide. We all dove for him, but something hard yanked on my left arm, and I wound up sprawled on the concrete. I heard Hunter screech as she was thrown against a wall, and Shay cry out as she was cut, and somewhere I saw Brook's writhing wolf-form in the grass.

A sharp, burning sensation began in my shoulder. I grit my teeth as the diamond webs pushed outwards, digging through skin, crawling across its surface… Cold fingers in my throat…

The Ventus knelt above me smiled. "_You're lucky that the cat cares not for our wants, as well. Only his and The Patron's," _it rasped. _"Else you'd have made an escape attempt, too."_

As it leaned away, I could see the Manticore's gleaming golden pelt. The yellow light of the city made it glitter and sparkle. Claws shone like daggers. For a moment, my hate vanished, and my breath caught.

Then I saw Nico dancing between its paws, a lithe shadow that even next to the Manticore managed to look cat-like. That had been my first impression of him in person, I remembered; a feral cat with a perfect gate and wild eyes.

And temperamental cats don't play 'mouse'.

I struggled to my hands and knees, stiff and confined by the web. Nearby, I saw Hunter already on her feet, snarling at a nearby Ventus. A throbbing diamond web sparkled on her leg.

An earth-shattering roar split the yellow-stained sky as Nico slashed open the demon's hide. Down the driveway, the drakon hissed, urging its comrade on.

I lifted to my knees, tearing feebly at the hard diamond searing my sore right shoulder. It was no secret, was it…? Or perhaps I had grown too used to having Ethan defending it.

To my left, Shay was cursing, diamond web embedded in her side.

There was a triumphant scream and Nico's answering curse. I caught light glaring off Mνήμη's sleek surface out of my peripherals as they fought. Shadows pulsed and throbbed and shot off. Also nearby, I could see a headless skeleton running around, chasing the Ventus that clearly held what it was lacking.

_Pop!_ One of the Manticore's spikes fired. Nico cried out.

I turned and reached for Întuneric, but I was slow and could barely make out Nico pinned between the demon and the wall out of the corner of my eyes. "Stop!" Like that'd work.

Then, from the drakon's head…

"She's right, kitty! Do stop!"

The Manticore screeched and lashed out with switchblade claws for Nico.

"I said stop!" the voice called lazily as Nico narrowly dodged it. There was a heavy sigh, and then…

…Singing.

The song lifted from the grass and the rocks and the air and even the cursed, reeking city air and resonated in my chest. A calming, uplifting thing. The voice overlapped itself in the wind and the notes folded together and the melody merged with harmony, and I could even hear a beat… Like a pulse, radiating through every dimension… Even the shadows twitched to it…

My own heartbeat seemed to falter to this new beat. I felt like I was about to fall into cool, easy water and float away on the song. But just as last time, the song came just short of that, utter cut off in its potential…

Slowly, in a daze, the Manticore stumbled back. Its eyes were glazed and paws clumsy. Clearly, it didn't have the resistance of a demigod. Or whatever I really was, assuming Nico's rant was a lie. The song began to fade as it sat down and stared at us dazedly.

I looked at the drakon head. Its eyes had closed and, slowly, also at peace, it moved away and positioned itself atop its spindly neck above its body. No, I'd been wrong; the snake wasn't singing.

The man behind its head was.

As the snake moved aside, he came into view. He swayed gently with the melody, perfect lips moving in a way I didn't know they could. Perfect white teeth and a calm, flawless tongue moved to a pattern long memorized. The winds pulled and pushed with the bobbing of his Adam's apple, the notes folding according to his call, all so effortlessly I couldn't believe it was just one man singing.

The song faded, though, and as it was last time, I was so sad to see it go. It felt me feeling hollow. But nothing so beautiful lasts for long.

He opened his eyes as the quiet echoes of the wind faded, taking the last traces of his voice with it. The Manticore was still sitting and staring at him with that glazed, mind-controlled look. The drakon did not make a single move. I couldn't even tell if it was breathing. Then I hoped that this man could sing the monster into exactly that.

But no. Those white teeth were revealed as those perfect lips pealed back to reveal a ravenous smile. I exchanged a glance with Hunter, who only shook her head in utter bewilderment.

Shay stared at the man curiously. Brook cocked her wolf-head to one side and flicked her ears.

Then, behind us, Nico growled. "You. I should've known."

"Ghost King," the singer purred. "You should've."

Hunter shook her head and leveled Anonymous, even though the magic metal had to be hurting through the web. "You. Who are you?"

He fixed her under such a smooth and strong gaze that I flinched back. He was smooth and calm, as Kronos had been when angry, yet those eyes screamed of something broken and dangerous, much like the Titan when he'd completely come undone. Something gone horribly wrong on a level so deep and dangerous. "I am Orpheus, Son of the Muse Calliope. Pleased to meet you."

oOo

**Nyx: BAM! ORPHEUS!**

**Nic: Kolkolkol…**

**Nyx: SOOO SORRY this is late! I've told you guys that I'm busy; this includes studying, which is why this was not done Friday night. It shouldn't have taken this long today, either, but there were errands and surprises and a mini but time-consuming emergency that occurred. My life is chaotic right now.**

**Know this, though; even if a chapter comes several days late, I will forever be writing. I will not go one day without a pencil on page or fingers on keyboard. I write this and other things, which includes the beginnings of novels you will see on shelves one day. I don't abandon a project. Ever. Just know that even if we disappear, I will still be somewhere, writing.**

**Nic: This is sort of important to you, I'm guessing?**

**Nyx: *bows* Oh, the wonders of passion. One day I'll find the words to express it properly. Though admittedly, poetry hasn't ever been my strength.**

**Nic: Well… You are writing novels… That ought to express something…**

**Nyx: Please review, guys! Let me know how I did, because it took quite a bit of time crunching to get this out! I'm pretty happy with it, so I'm relying on you guys to be my realists. All comments are appreciated.**

**Nic: Including the ones about that Altoids tin on your desk?**

**Nyx: Shut up.**


	47. Viva la Vida

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan owns PJatO.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: Her name in Eurydice and if you don't know where she is, then I have failed horribly. Go back and reread the scenes from his POV. Or maybe this one will give it away, too. And thanks.**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: Ah yeah that seems to have been a problem, too. :3 I'll talk to Nic about the old Hunter POV chapters.**

oOo

_Orpheus!_

We all knew the name. And something about the way he spoke told me I wasn't thinking of his namesake. My breath caught and my eyes, hungry, ran over him from head to toe. There was too much light to truly see him by, and too deep the shadows; I caught the plane of his face, the two glittering eyes, the slightly crooked nose, hair just shorter than Ethan's had been and far more wavy, nearly to the point of curls. Long arms and delicate fingers not unlike my own, fingers made for something delicate and not for a fight. In his right hand was a thin white stick I recognized well – it matched Ms. May's baton exactly. Of his outfit I could make out black and white. A tuxedo? All other colors were bleached away and replaced with that eye-piercing yellow of LA's nighttime shows.

The same color that hid the stars.

Those perfect lips continued to smile, eyes locked on Hunter.

Who, of course, had a smart remark. "Oh!" she exclaimed happily. "You look great for someone so old!"

Old. He hardly looked older than Kronos had.

"He's not," Nico growled stiffly, "_old."_

"Hm. No, I guess not," Orpheus mused, leaning on one foot and tapping his baton to his chin. "Is that all you planned to discuss with me, Ghost King – can I call you Nico? – Nico, or were there more urgent matters that I must ignore?"

"I could eat him," Dr. Thorn suggested, voice slurred and dual-colored eyes still glassy.

Orpheus sighed and Nico stayed silent. "No, no, I'm afraid not. At ease, kitty. We are here on a peace mission."

"Peace mission?!" Shay, me, and the demon all cried.

"Peace mission," he agreed. His gaze swiveled lazily across us until it fell upon Nico. "I assume you know how to fake a death, yes? And how to barter?"

"I am not," Nico spat coldly, "going to stoop so low as to barter with _you_."

"Why should you judge me the way your kind have been for so many years?" the musician sighed, closing his glittering, colorless eyes and shaking his head. "Dear child, you insult me!"

"Insult? Who-"

"Oh, yes, yes, I assume you also have a couple oaths swearing to seek and destroy people like me. People who've made my barter with The Patron. Those who were smart enough to escape that pathetic, gloomy prison you have down there. My kind are indeed an insult to yours, aren't we?"

I expected Nico to very well kill him then and there, demons or not, for slandering the Underworld like that. But instead, through gritted teeth, came the words, "_You're _the one who decided to play this game, Orpheus. Last we met, you were perfectly content in that 'pathetic, gloomy prison'. It's you who's put yourself in checkmate."

Orpheus's eyes snapped open and glowered, igniting faster than Greek fire. "Strong words," he growled in a threatening bass tone, "for one who's played such questionable moves himself."

And, to my utter shock, the man pointed at me.

What…?

Adding to my bewilderment, Nico snapped his jaw shut, and had no answer.

Orpheus smiled again, just twitching his lips. "Yes, I know. I know everything about your clueless endeavors. Child's play." At that he turned away and addressed my sister. "Very well. Would you care to hear my request? Or should I give the signal for that lovely reptile to swallow you… five? Six? How many of you are wolves?"

I glanced at Nico, hatred boiling in my throat again. There was something else he was no telling me. Though I'd be lying if I said I was surprised.

Nico, though, had turned his head away and wouldn't look at any of us.

Two-faced little hellhound.

Hunter did not lower Anonymous but said coolly to the intruder over its blade, "I see no harm in words. What did you have in mind?"

Orpheus's resulting grin made me sorry she'd asked. "Well. I'm sure you are aware that my Patron wishes to take the Daughter of Darkness captive?"

"And the rest of you dead!" Dr. Thorn called eagerly. "Gone! Passed away! Eaten!"

The musician sighed and closed his eyes, stifling some sharp comment, before continuing. "Yes, Dr. Thorn. She wants the others eaten." He opened his eyes. "And she has sent me to see it out."

"Yes! And me to do the eating!"

"SHUT UP YOU STUPID CAT!"

His voice literally came from everywhere, loud as a jet engine. A spontaneous gust of wind nearly knocked me off my feet.

Dr. Thorn whimpered and pressed itself flat against the grass.

Orpheus sighed and when he spoke again, his voice had returned to normal. "Well. It might not be known to you, but I can live without this Patron hanging over my head. But I am a dog on a leash." He sent a pointed glance at his terrified cat, whose hair was standing on end. "And I wish for that leash to be clipped. I doubt this will happen if I prove myself useful to her. So I must fail my mission. And I can't do that without your consent."

"_What!"_ the Manticore roared, leaping to its paws. A furious roar (though dwarfed by Orpheus's outburst) escaped him. "You _cannot _defy the Patron! She has given you life!"

He held out a calming palm. "At peace, kitty kitty. You need not be so hasty. This includes you, too. You will get many a meal soon enough."

The demon sent a longing glance in Nico's direction. "…Do I get to pick?"

Another heavy sigh. "Well, since that one doesn't seem eager to cooperate, I guess he'll need to be silenced. In time!" he yelped as the demon stalked forward. "In time, Dr. Thorn! We do not eat others while negotiating!"

The cat huffed and sat angrily on its haunches.

"So… What do you want from us?" Hunter said slowly.

Orpheus smiled at her again. "That is simple. I need you to die. Publically, noisily. The Patron must have no doubts. With the Daughters of Time and Hunt dead, I will have gained her favor. I do not know what she wishes of Oceanus's child, but if she has not told me, I assume it is not important. So killing her will save us a variable. The only one my Patron will be displeased over is Bree. Should I break the news in the correct order-"

"-She'll let you off your leash for killing me and the others," Hunter continued.

"-And then case my useless _culus _aside," he finished. "Very good, you catch on quickly."

"What's in it for us?"

"You get to live."

There was silence. I looked around at the demons, the Manticore, the drakon. And I had the sinking feeling that we might very well need his help to live. That he had a very tempting offer. Then, slowly, Hunter spoke again. "…What reason do you have faking our deaths to The Patron? What good are we to you alive in reality, under her radar?"

His smile fell. "You wish for an honest answer?"

"Are you going to test me by giving less?"

"No," he sighed. "No, I will not. In truth, I was murdered years ago. And the Fates did not exactly spoil me before that." He voice turned bitter. "I did not deserve what I got. And I was satisfied in death until something much more glorious came by. Forgive me if I don't wish to cast the same hand upon other demigods, much less mere _children_."

"You're lying," Nico growled stiffly.

"I am not, Ghost King. Can't you still read my mind? Am I not being honest?"

Nico hesitated a moment. "…He does feel reluctant to kill us," he said eventually. "But he'll have no problem mowing us down if he has to."

I cocked my head to one side. Read his mind? I couldn't. Though that wasn't saying much.

The Manticore snorted. "Pfft. Petty morals. You guys do realize there are no literal boundaries between you and slitting another's throat? I will never understand why humans cage themselves like this. Foolish. Any old creature can walk up and eat you while you're so trapped." He licked his lips eagerly.

Nico sighed. "There is also, however, much he is hiding from me. Stay on your toes."

At least he had the courtesy to warn us of that. Though it, too, wasn't saying much.

"There is," Orpheus agreed, "one other reason."

We looked at him.

"One of you happens to be something I hold in higher regards even than a half-blood or a child. One of you is a musician."

Silence.

"Bree," I heard Moon hiss. "He's speaks are for you!"

"Shut up," I squeezed out of the corner of my mouth. My teeth had started to grind. The pain in my right shoulder was growing worse and worse as the diamond spread. Was it also tightening? It was even just a tad… tiring.

"Yes, I speak of the Daughter of Darkness." Orpheus turned those eyes on me. They resembled shattered glass, glittering in the harsh light of a close and hot fire. "If you are indeed what I expect of you, Bree, I will spare your friends' lives. Even the Ghost King's."

"No!" Dr. Thorn wailed.

"Peace. Until he steps out of line, I will include him in this," Orpheus chided. "My apologies, Bree. The cat is most anxious. You must forgive him."

"I don't," bubbled past my lips, "converse with demons."

"Very well. Don't forgive him. _I _definitely haven't. Now, if you would go grab your instrument, so that we could make this final…?"

"Why," Hunter growled, "does the stupid violin matter to you?"

"I will not kill another musician, but I _will _kill young half-bloods if need be. I will not spare you until you are worthy to be spared! She will prove to me that you are!"

Silence.

"Well? Go get it! I'll assemble the rest of the orchestra."

I was dumbfounded. An orchestra, here? A great thing of beauty and unity among slick tongues and evil demons and amid the city's reeking air? Here in this place where we couldn't even see the stars?

"Go!"

I turned and bolted inside.

oOo

While Bree was gone, Orpheus turned his attention to me.

I could feel him. His mind pressing on mine. It swirled and jerked and shrieked. He had gone insane; I could see it and hear it and feel its whispers radiating through my bones. The way one can feel a demon creeping inside.

"This is stupid," the Manticore declared.

"If you see it that way," Orpheus said dryly. "I, however, have something worth risking all this for."

The words grated on my ears. His mind thrashed and screamed again, making my hands shake. He was on edge.

Something's not adding up here…

"Orpheus?" I asked, glaring, but the fact that he was here was reminding me of darker times and of Bree's quiet, harmless request. Of what I'd done to her.

_She was willing to turn Ethan into this…_

_ …Because I haven't shown her better…._

He sensed my discomfort and smiled. "Yes, Nico?"

"Why is death no longer peaceful for you? You were happy with your wife Eurydice. What has G… The Patron done to bind you here? To bind you to her?"

He bristled. "That is none of your business."

I decided to play the legal card and countered, "You are an escaped ghost. Your punishment may be softened if you share your motives, and they are pure."

"Pure?" he whispered. And then his voice rose and the wind howled and even the Manticore backed away. "PURE?! Ha! Ha ha! That's a joke! I'm sure it is!"

Shrieking, tortured laughter drifted on the winds.

"I _am _pure!" he cried. "I am pure! I have done nothing but willingly ride the waves of the Fates' thread and loom! What's happened is _not my fault! Not my fault!"_

I said nothing and waited, an odd mix of dread and fear and anger inside, but I dared not lose patience with the dead. Or undead. Slowly, the winds began to fall, and the windows stopped rattling with their force.

"Not my fault," Orpheus rasped. "You be sure to tell them that, boy, when the question the one who sent your murderer after you."

Dr. Thorn snapped his teeth happily.

I cocked my head to one side. Not his fault. Not his fault. There was something there, the answer just inches away….

"Orpheus, whatever isn't your fault, I'm sorry."

oOo

I returned to another odd scene.

Nico and Orpheus were glaring daggers at each other in a way that suggested another hidden knowledge between them. I grumbled and held my violin case close. "Hey, Orpheus! Where's my orchestra?"

"It is here," he called distractedly, waving a yellow-contoured hand. "Do not fret."

The pun went unnoticed as, from down the street, the orchestra came marching.

It wasn't an orchestra, really. Just a bass, cello, violin, and viola. Which made one instrument from each orchestra section, if you included my own instrument. But not the proportions; violins should take up half the set, and there should be way less bass…

"I have it under control," Orpheus said, and broke his staring contest with Nico. His back straightened and his baton, hardly a visible thread even compared to him, was lifted into the air. "The diamond on your bowing arm should allow you to move freely. The music we create will itself bend the rock, and I dare not remove it for the chance you decide to fire shadows while I'm distracted. Get ready. I assume you have a song in mind?"

"I do," I agreed, sending a hot glance at Nico. I wished there was one that he hadn't lied to me about. _Viva la Vida_ would never be the same to me after what he'd done. But I knew no other respectable piece, save part of _Boulevard of Broken Dreams,_ but now wasn't exactly the time for improvisation. My friends' lives depended on this.

Because this deal was indeed our last shot. The only reason Hunter would've agreed to conspiring with the enemy.

I caught her eye as I was rosining my bow. A weary golden color. She was thinking of her father again, and worrying about us.

Not like Brook did. But as a leader worried.

A true leader. An honest and caring one. Not like her father at all.

A few strokes of the strings told me that the A was just off, and the D less than that. The fine tuners took care of that. Then I stood and tested my bow, tightened it just a little more, and stood perfectly still with my fingers placed and feet spread. Left foot just ahead of the right. Violin held high. A C# note prepared on the A string, two spread fingers.

"Do you know this one?" I asked. "It's, um… A tad newer than what you probably played."

"Child, the trees and rock and even the wills of men bend to my music when I am at my height. I knew this song long before it was written."

The shadowy, hidden figure raised his arms and began to wave them. The instruments floating at his sides began to play.

Great gods of Olympus, I'd never heard the intro like this. Oh, I'd floated away on this song so many times before, but now it literally came with the wind and pulsed from every surface and sang like pure nectar into the air. It purged the atmosphere of the city's stink. And my fingers – my hand – my mind…

The notes flowed so easily when I played with Orpheus. It was not hard to get the slurs and string transfers just right. There was no odd mix of notes. My fingers were relaxed. Like I was playing in my room alone. Not before an audience, not before my lying brother, not before a dead man and not for the lives of others.

Just played. Just made pure, sweet bliss.

_It was a wicked and wild wind,_

_That blew down the doors to let me in._

_The shattered windows and the sound of drums…_

_People couldn't believe what I'd become._

So authentic, the sound of strings. Screw loud, migraine-inducing brass. _This _was music.

_Revolutionaries wait_

_For my head on a silver plate;_

_Just a puppet on a lonely string…_

_Ah, who would ever wanna be king…?_

The melody, the unspoken lyrics, were reminding me of my school project. Of Julius Caesar. Another deep layer to the song.

When the bridge came, my favorite part, I truly felt like I was flying. Alone in the precious sound. Sad but strong and calm, utterly calm. Utterly sure of everything. From the bow strokes to my fingers to the way the other instruments sounded. Orpheus gave me no physical cue; I just took my intro based on the other instruments. They were always right.

_I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing,_

_Roman Calvary choirs are singing._

_Be my mirror, my sword, my shield!_

_My missionaries in a foreign field!_

_For some reason I can't explain,_

_I know St. Peter will call my name,_

_Never an honest word…_

No, never an honest word.

_But that was when I ruled the world…_

Four simple notes repeated and fading brought the song's gentle ending. I waited perfectly still as the last of the sound's echo disappeared. Not even the wolves or Venti raised their voices.

Then I practically dropped. My arms flopped down and my head hung and my knees felt like water. I don't know exactly what playing with Orpheus had done to me, but it sure was tiring. I sank to my knees and calmly began to put the instrument away.

My hands continued to shake. I had drifted so far, so high on that song… I shouldn't have… There were lives at stake…

Orpheus waited until I stood. On that face of naught – this was getting very annoying, not being able to see him clearly – but shadows and harsh yellow city lights was a genuine smile.

"You are very talented," he said. "I think this will suffice."

Dr. Thorn snorted. "Maybe, if I tell The Patron of what you're doing, she'll allow me to eat you."

"She will not," Orpheus purred. "Trust me."

I zipped the case with shaking hands – but of relief this time and stood on wobbly legs. Hunter put an arm around my shoulders to keep me steady.

Orpheus glanced up at the sky. "Pity the stars are not out. Hard to tell the time. In that case, I must be off."

"Our deal?" Hunter growled.

"Our deal, yes. I shall return tomorrow night with a script and the details. Will I find you here at that time?"

Hunter narrowed her eyes. "Details?"

"Details," he agreed. "Just wait here until then. Should I find you gone by the marrow, I will consider our contract broken and hunt you all down until I do indeed have you dead and the Daughter of Darkness at the feet of The Patron. Come, kitty! Snake. We take our leave now."

And, like we meant nothing to that shrouded character, he turned and walked away.

He looked nothing more than thin yellow sticks in this light. But the demons followed him without question. Dr. Thorn hesitated only to scowl at Nico. The drakon, big enough to follow only once they'd turned away down the street, let its head turn with the grim procession.

"Wait!" Shay snapped. "What about these stones?! Take them off, if you have any trust!"

"I trust no one," Orpheus sighed, but held out his hands. The stone on my shoulder vanished.

The stones just rolled off Nico and Hunter and Shay and Brook, bouncing away across the street and into ditches. But the web that'd been on me simply vanished. I wondered where it went.

Orpheus smiled. "Good day, children."

"You're in such a hurry to leave," Nico said coldly, "for someone with an army to back him."

Orpheus turned to give that shattered-glass smile once more. "I merely have no reason to stay, children. You have given me everything I need."

oOo

**Nyx: Really wish Bree coulda seen Orpheus. I'm dying to show you guys my description of him. I'm quite proud of it. There is a lot more of him later. I am also fond of the comic relief in this chapter.**

**Nic: I yell that at my own cats sometimes. When I'm pouring food and they're asking for more food.**

**Nyx: That does seem to be a cat's fad, yes. I don't have a lot of time, guys, but thanks for the reviews! More on this one would be greatly appreciated. And the poll has a four-way tie for second place, last I checked. Remember, you can vote for 2 characters. So, until Thursday… When Gaea's plot will be revealed (*hint hint put a guess in the reviews hint hint*)… Uh…**

**Nic: Can't think of a good closing word?**

**Nyx: No, no I cannot.**


	48. Shattered Peace

**DISCLAIMER: If you look at Rick Riordan's Tweet Page (I have not), you will see that he is the proud owner of HoO and PJatO. Not us. And that he is rather… Sharp-tongued.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: There is plenty more Orpheus to come. Quite a bit, actually. This book is much longer than Rebels.**

oOo

"Is everyone okay?"

I sank into the couch, letting out a sigh not half as loud as the creaking in my joints. "Ugh. Tired, but okay. Did the stone webs drain anyone else like that?"

"No," Shay answered for them.

Nico sighed heavily and sat in the chair across from me, looking everywhere but my eyes. I clenched my fists in an effort to avoid smacking him.

"We need to find out why he took off those stones," Brook pointed out. "Even if he did trust us… What was there to lose, leaving them on? Honestly?"

"Almost nothing," Hunter agreed grimly. "Come on, Shay. I'll show you the stores of stones we've stolen. We've also taken these orb things that the webs sometimes make. We don't know why…"

"We need," Nico said in a cold undertone, "to find out why he's here when he was happy before. The Patron didn't just rip him up here and say 'good luck'. There are too many ways for him to kill himself. What's made him agree – or at least reconcile – with her plans?"

We all turned to stare ice at him. He sensed all too easily that they had taken my side; he quickly stood and strode for the stairs.

"Oh!" Brook called. "While you're up there, check on Moon! She's been keeping her mind distant for a while now, even during the fight. She ran up there afterwards."

"She's napping," Nico said as he tromped up the stairs.

Hmph. Whatever reason he had for keeping Moon's secret, I didn't know, and I didn't want to find out.

From the kitchen came a shocked yell. "They're gone! The orbs are gone!"

"The orbs?" I called.

"The orbs! The stones are here…" Hunter answered. "Oh, no. There's one left. Huh. Must've escaped out the broken windows when Shay blew up the sink."

"Hm." I was too tired to get up and aid them in their search.

Instead, I laid my head back and slept.

oOo

"You're crazy. Absolutely crazy. I should eat you now."

"Cat, hold that rough tongue of yours. I know what I am doing." Streets, falling away beneath his feet, every substance in a mile's radius humming with his music.

His.

Him, the creator of such things. The creator of the song Bree had played. The creator of beauty and strong-felt lamentations and hymns of honor to Apollo. He had been a good man in life. A good man to Eurydice, too.

_Not my fault. Not my fault._

"Tell me, then," Dr. Thorn snorted, head held low in a pout. "What exactly was that?"

Orpheus sighed and held up the objects in his hands. "We got these, didn't we?"

"Yes… But now we've twenty-four hours! Why didn't we attack during the day? When we had that… _thing _with us? And run in the lasting daylight? What sense is it to attack and flee when we're at our weakest?"

"I wish for him at my back when I cast the spell."

"Psh! He only appears during the day! It's impossible-"

"Not so, when we're far enough from the human lights. Those blaze too brightly. But the weak dawn sunlight? Easy to cut through. And we have the drakon and Oracle here with us now. We will be safe to run. To top it off, they suspect nothing this way. They don't know what we hold, or that I have no intention of leaving them alive. Patience, and you will get your revenge soon enough. And I will have mine."

_Not my fault. Not my fault._

oOo

I woke to silence.

Things had fallen fretfully calm. The time had been short but the effect so dramatic. Bob was not whining, the sink had quit spewing water, Phil did not speak, and the conversation between Shay, Brook, and Hunter had been reduced to whispers. Nico was nowhere to be seen or heard.

Slowly, quietly, threatened against the opposite by the oppressing silence, I slid off the couch and got to my feet. The city's yellow lights were coming in through the torn blinds in shreds; bright yellow streaks that threw shadows in wild lengths and conflicting directions. Like trees in a fallen forest. The stoic funeral home bared the wounds proudly and quietly, though, as it always had.

From the other room, I heard the bathroom door open and close. Hunter strode into the kitchen. "Anything? And where are the others?"

"None of my spells affect this thing," Brook muttered. "Bree's still sleeping; don't care where Nico is; Moon is still upstairs hiding something, and Shay went up there to use one of the bathrooms, since you had this one."

"Bree's done sleeping," I slurred as I walked in, still stretching. The pop of my elbow was such a slander to the oppressing silence that I flinched. But I was alone with my sisters, and therefore only so much could bother me. "I'm guessing your stone game isn't going well?"

"No," Brook sighed. "I-"

"Sh."

She frowned and stared at me with slight offense, but then Hunter's eyebrows furrowed, and I know I hadn't made a mistake. I'd definitely heard something. It slowly got louder…

Then, before us on the table, causing a strange twisting feeling in my chest, the shadows began to bend and swirl and solidify to reveal…

A box.

I couldn't read the address printed in perfect, uniform marching rows stamped in the corner. But across the lid was scrawled in ominous red ink; _This showed up at the Universal Studios. I believe it is for you. Someone in a high place made sure that I saw it properly delivered. Oh, and I believe that message was deleted, hybrid filth. –Charon_

"Hybrid filth," I muttered, ready to spit back that I was willing to die for the same reasons as any demigod, and that life was about those things you were willing to die for, before remembering that speech wasn't supposed to be real. "Who sent it to Charon?"

"Granny, it looks like," Hunter whispered, golden eyes lighting. She grabbed the box with too-swift hands. "She doesn't know we are, but she knew he'd get it to us."

"It's from her _address,"_ Brook corrected, taking the box back. "You don't know who really sent it. It could blow up, for all we know."

Unfortunately, that only made Hunter more eager to open it. I saw the look in her eyes and stepped well back. And I smiled.

Kronos, at least, could never have claimed to have this interest in explosives.

Hunter swiftly ran Anonymous in the form of a knife through the tape and tossed the cardboard flaps aside. The loud rustling of Styrofoam popcorn made the silence growl, but thankfully, it didn't attack. When the noise stopped, the silence very happily took its firm reign once more. Hunter stared in shock.

"…Is it gonna explode?" I asked, leaning forward.

In the box was an orb.

"How?" Hunter asked. "Where… There were never any stones at the house. Just in the woods."

"Maybe the scorpion had it hiding on it? Or the drakon? Or it was one of those Venti Bree shot down without a second glance," Brook suggested, reaching out to stroke the sphere's veined surface. The smell of her hair – autumn leaves and polished metal – made my fingers relax. "They might've had stones, and we still don't know what turns the webs into orbs, so…"

I poked it experimentally. It seemed about as lively as Phil. "Perhaps. So, that's two orbs we have, then? And a lot of stones?"

"Two orbs?"

We turned. Shay had appeared in the threshold, staring with wide eyes at the orb. "Where's that one come from?"

"Oswego. Something had it and we didn't notice," Hunter sighed. "Why, we don't know."

"If we knew how they were made, and what triggers it," Brook mused, "then we'd know exactly why. I'm not gonna be the one to ask, but maybe Nico's seen something like this?"

I shook my head. "No. He hasn't. Unless he lied, which is quite likely."

"I think he wants to be alone," Shay muttered, shaking her head. "He must've taken a hit from the Manticore. He's in his room muttering about scars. He sounded kind of pained, actually."

I snorted. "Let him be. The humility's good for him."

Hunter sighed. "Well. Someone has to go get him in the next five minutes, because whether we want to be or not, we're allies right now. And he might have information." She gave me a stern glance. "And an apology. Which, by the way, you ought to have, too."

I bristled. "Why the hell should I-"

"-Because you have obviously offended him somehow, even if he lacks to social abilities to tell you how or why or what he really wants," she cut me off. "You do the exact same thing to other people, Bree. Why you're too daft to see it in him is beyond me."

"Did you just call me _daft?_ And he lied – about everything-"

_"Bree."_

I fell silent and met her crippling yellow gaze.

"Go talk to him. If only for the orb question and for me, go talk."

I glowered a moment longer before caving and tip-toeing, ever obedient to the heavy silence, up the stairs. In the hallway I passed Moon and her pack still working on the door. "Is good!" she whispered to me excitedly with a wagging tail. I was thinking that it looked more like the tunnels after Gaea had given her assassination attempt (which still made no sense; if she'd wanted us dead, why not kill us when we were miles away from the surface and eliminated escape? The question was also bugging Hunter, I believe), but I nodded and kept going.

I didn't bother to knock. Yet he must've known I was there, because the door opened about an inch before coming to a loud and solid stop.

I sighed. "Nico, step out of the way of the door. Unless you'd like to be run over."

"Just- just give me a minute!" His voice was high and strained.

"You're wasting my time," I growled stiffly, and shoved harder. One could literally hear his heels digging into the carpet. "Move."

"Just a minute," he asked, though it sounded like a flat and long-dead statement.

I sighed and turned my left shoulder to the door. "Three. Two. You know, Hunter's the one that taught me how to do this. One." I yelled and heaved, feeling wood bite back for just a moment, before his weight gave and the door flung open. The silence was shattered and fled like the blind dog had at sunset.

I stumbled to a halt and turned to glare at Nico. He quietly closed the door behind me as cover for not meeting my eyes and slid something small quickly into the pocket of aviator's jacket. Which was torn in several places. Again. I dimly wondered where he got it fixed and why. There was a tear on the left arm, another near the bottom hem, one dangerously close to his heart but too shallow to have even torn a straight hole in the fabric. Maybe this jacket was just another crazy obsession of his. _Frank, it might be called._

He turned to look at me. Those dark charcoal eyes were lined with an alarming red color; but, true to his cold-hearted character, they were dry. "What was it you wanted?" he asked quietly and simply.

I scowled. His calm tone made my own anger react. Like he had the right to act so superior and mature. "Well. I guess, though you don't deserve it, that the polite thing to do would be to ask if you're hurt. Shay was concerned."

"I'm fine." He sat on the bed and sighed, rubbing absently at the cut in his harm. Must've been where the Manticore's spike grazed him. "You?"

I glared until he looked at his feet, silently taking it back.

"You know," I spat, "exactly how I am. You've hurt me more than any demon."

He flinched. "What else did you come here for?"

He didn't deserve my agreement to change the subject, either, but I complied because his presence was awkward and about as favorable as vegetables were to the Chimera. Not to mention that my latest request of him – which went unmentioned – was making my grief for Ethan reemerge. "Well. While I'm here, you might as well spit out everything else that you've been hiding from me."

Now he whipped his head up to stare with wide eyes. Not a moment was wasted when his lips moved. "Names. They hold power. We're not supposed to say them outside of Camp, because it draws the mentioned demons towards us, but I was told never to inform you of that because the Olympians feared you'd repeat the Crooked One's name until he came back. Phil's not stupid and an egomaniac all the time; he's often quite smart. And I've met you once before, not in dreams – I remember you tripping over me in the Battle of the Labyrinth. Though one might not call that 'meeting'. There are a lot of things I don't remember and never will. And I'm not twelve. I'm eighty-two."

I glared at him, totally ticked that he'd give one of his rare but clever attempts at humor in a time like this, but he just stared at me. He wasn't kidding.

"_Ehem._ Eighty-two?"

"I was born eighty-two years ago. But for seventy of those years, I was in a daze and didn't age. Father planted me in the Lair of the Lotus Eaters."

"Oh?"

"It's a hotel in Vegas now."

"Ah. I see."

There was an awkward silence as we stared one another down. The red had vanished from his eyes and they were now wide, almost pleading. The way a rat pleads not to be killed.

Eventually I sighed and, still weary from the stone's effects, sat across from him on the bed. "What are you doing up here?"

"Um…" Great. Another lie in the making. "…Cooling off. I was reading my sword's memories."

I didn't even bother to comment. Nor did he on the revealed fact that I hadn't read my own sword's recordings. "Well. Hunter wants to know if you can put that on hold and help her and Brook figure out the deal with the orbs and stones."

He groaned and shook his head. "I can't. I don't know anything. The only thing you and I know more than them is merely The Patron's name, great help that that is." He spread his hands out before him. "I've got nothing."

"They thought it might be among the things you've hidden."

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

I looked at the ceiling for a moment, trying to be both productive and a pain in his neck at the same time. "Well, then we're out of leads. Unless you count the prophecy."

He stiffened.

"_Forgotten horrors best left untouched,_

_Rise from minds scarred far too much._

_While in fate's shadows, the dreamer waits,_

_Missing line or whatever,_

_Enslaved by traitor's hand and blade,_

_To death are heroes damned by day._

"You know, it had that last part right. The Daylight Disaster. Something definitely does stalk the sunlight. And, according to the scents Moon picked up, it isn't human or god or demon."

He glared at the bedspread. "Don't trust it. It won't end well, I promise. Besides, the missing line makes no sense, anyway. There's nothing it could help you with."

"True… Wait. You know the missing line?"

"…I might've had a dream that same night, but decided not to contribute…"

"Nico, we need to know! It could save lives!"

"It could _end _them!" he shot back, glaring furiously at me. "There are a lot of things that led to the Titan War, and the prophecy was one of them! They do nothing but give blurry, inaccurate images of the changeable future, and when people act on that, things go wrong!"

"Do you know how long we've been wishing for that line?! It could reveal so much-"

"It could destroy more!"

"Well, is it more dangerous missing, or there?" I challenged. "Would you rather me to try and fill in the blank?"

His gaze dropped to his feet. "You don't know what you're asking me to do."

"I think I do."

His eyes squeezed shut. "…But… I don't…" A heavy sigh. "_Sky's eternal peace shall break._That's the line."

I smacked him over the head. "See? Was that so hard?"

"My mother was killed because of a prophecy."

And there it is. My entire cause shot down with one little sentence. I slumped down and stared in shock and said something totally Ivy-League worthy, like, "…Oh."

He shook his head and looked towards the window. "That's why I don't like it. The meaning is always unclear. And that leads to regrettable actions. There isn't much that 'sky's eternal peace' could mean, but the stars… Death in the sky… They're unreachable. To humans and even the gods. Not even The Patron – who is Earth, the exact opposite – could revive them. Air doesn't reach space. And starlight doesn't fall into Apollo or even Artemis's realm. There's _nothing there,_ not wind nor earth nor even light…"

That almost slipped past us, that harmless little list. But it struck like a thrown barbell in my chest and my gaze lifted to meet his. He had gone pale as snow and moon and paper all combined and those black eyes wide, wide dark holes. In them I could see, as I felt inside, the whole world start to crumble and mountains fall and the seas run dry.

_"…Not even light,"_ I whispered. "You don't think…?"

His face held all the answer I needed, and all the answer I didn't want to hear.

oOo

"Hunter! Hunter!"

We ran like starving wolves to dinner down the stairs, tripping over one another, forgetting our fight in the business I had once dreaded from him. Only now I dreaded it for an entirely different reason.

She met us with a grim expression. "Glad you guys could join us. We discovered something."

"So did we!" I gasped. "I – Nico – the prophecy – it foretells the reincarnation of the constellations!"

Shay frowned. "The what?"

"The stars! They'll come back! And I didn't think it's possible, but that's because Erebos never had a kid, and now Pluto did, and I'm not… I'm not a demigod…"

Brook held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down?"

"Shadows! Shadows are the only thing between us and the stars!" I thrust my hand forward, calling the black curls to caress my fingers. "And _I control the shadows!"_

Behind me, Nico nodded, unable to speak.

"The Venti," Brook murmured. "…That explains it. It must've been a Ventus that held the orb. They're the ones that got the most shadows from Bree. They got it when she shot at them."

It was my turn to be confused. "What?"

Hunter set a stone on the table. "While you two were up there yelling, we figured out what the stones were for. They repel magic, correct?"

"…Right…"

She held out a hand and let the golden wisps flow from her fingertips, little lights that froze the floating dust they touched and made the air tight with imbalance. They reached for the stone the way kids reach for a new toy ball.

The instant they grabbed it, the stone reacted.

Diamond webs fired from its center and curled up, above Hunter's magic, yanking and turning and twisting and too many – the little golden children tried to run, but they were trapped-

-Trapped in a sphere.

"It stands to reason," Hunter said dryly, "that they should be able to hold a significant amount of magic within them when shaped as a hollow orb."

I only stared, because I knew what it meant.

"Orpheus didn't leave because he intends to make a deal with us. You heard what he said. _You've given me everything I need._ The stone that tired Bree out, but none of us? It was draining magic from her the whole time she was distracted by the violin. The Patron letting them get so close to an escape route in the tunnel? Hoping they'd use magic to get out. He only left because he had what he needed. Not exactly Bree, but apparently enough magic for what he needed." She gave me a glance. "To revive the stars, apparently."

Nico shook his head. "No. Not all of them. If the pack of Venti that attacked Oswego did trap magic in the orbs, and got away with all but the one Granny found, then it was they could have had enough to bring back just one constellation. It's a reasonable estimate. And no doubt, The Patron picked the first one. The Daylight Disaster, whichever constellation that is. It must return to the stars at night."

"Which makes sense," Brook added, "because the Daylight Disaster murders occurred only after that attack."

I was silenced. Not in shock. Just in dread, because I knew what was coming next.

"Orpheus," Shay said. "Where does he fall in?"

"He's The Patron's servant," Brook muttered. "And if that's true, she doesn't want him to have power. So she gave him the Daylight Disaster. But between the orbs he stole from here and whatever he got while Bree was performing… If he can gather enough for one more constellation…"

"…He'll bring back his lyre, which was hidden up there by the women who murdered him," Nico concluded. "And if he gets that lyre…"

Silence. We all had felt the lull of his music. With an instrument to back him up, there was not telling what he could hypnotize us into, just as he'd led the dazed Manticore from taking Nico's life.

Like tricking me into reviving the constellations for Gaea, for example.

I opened my mouth to say something like 'Well, we'll just go kill him!' But Orpheus was already long gone, on his way to a place in the country where he could conduct the spell come next nightfall. And he had a hundred demons plus the drakon at his side.

oOo

**Nyx: DLKOIvgNAQDKIGHWOKJDIHGFOWKJNOCHGOEIERNKNERDR!**

**Nic: Come on, guys. That setup deserves a review or two.**

**Nyx: Like it? I'm quite proud of it myself. That part of the revision from the RD was all mine. And there's still more epic-ness to come!**

**Nic: Epic-ness is good.**

**Nyx: I also have good news. I shall resume working on the cover tomorrow, and it WILL be done FAST! Not 'sloppy bad job fast', but 'preferably before we finish the book' fast. And it will also be epic.**

**Nic: Until Saturday… Bye! Eat Stroganoff!**

**.**

**.**

**Nyx: For those of you who remembered 9/11 yesterday, a wise man once told me something. He was a pilot and had been flying that day, and obviously had to land after the attacks. And he said that he was flying again as soon as possible. Because the people that did that to New York and Washington were **_**terror**_**ists. Terror. Their whole objective, as suggested in the name, was to kill and to strike fear. So if you're afraid, haven't you let them win? Should someone start a shooting at his movie theatre, he will be there the next day, even if there are no movies that interest him. He refuses to let the terrorists win. It seems, to be, quite the smart idea.**


	49. The Strength of the Wolf

**DISCLAIMER: Rick Riordan is still in possession of PJatO and HoO. Not us. Else Nico would not have been thrown into Tartarus… Percabeth, maybe, but not Nico…**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Cookie Spasms – Uh… No, she's not… That was announced in chapter three of book one of this series, Rebels, and mentioned several times here in Rejects… It becomes a bigger and bigger deal with each passing second, as her unique parentage is one of the things that makes her a/the main character… And Hunter is not a demigod, either. Their mothers were twin Daughters of Hades. Bree is a Daughter of Pluto and Hunter the Daughter of Kronos.**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: GRRRR I am, too, but I didn't get the chance last night. :( I got loaded with stuff to do this weekend, and people just seem content to add to that load. Hence this chapter being late. Anyway, yay, thanks for the support.**

**THIS IS LATE MAINLY BECAUSE FF.N WAS DOWN TODAY. That, or it was my internet causing a problem.**

oOo

A grim silence, more stifling than the quiet had been earlier, hung over our heads like a ticking bomb.

It counted down the steps Orpheus took. Slowly burning its fuse.

With a sharp pang, I recalled the dream-voice's suggestion. It hadn't been totally crazy, had it?

Part of me was angry I hadn't seen it before. Nico had told me of the stars and I knew I was unique because I possessed powers only held by my father's Helm of Darkness and I should've known, should've remembered. Nico had told me, while we were in the tunnels, that Orpheus's lyre was among the stars. Should've seen it coming. Another part was frustrated. Stupid drakon. It shouldn't exist. Didn't, according to Annabeth's records. So why did it? Stupid demons. Defying the laws of our screwed universe. Hmph.

And the rest of me just wished it was over.

Next to me, I knew Nico was fuming. The stars were not his responsibility, but the dead were, and there were fallen among the stars. His friend Zoe and the two bears and countless others. He would be furious. The dead were so sacred, so precious to him. The carrying on of memories. Lessons and records and numberless things worth remembering without the whisper of the lips or the marks of a pen on paper. Our comrades, the people we owed our lives to. The ones who had trained him and helped him through the Labyrinth and tried to save him from Minos, the ones who happily adopted the term 'Ghost King' from his prophecy. Utterly furious, that's what he'd be. Gaea should go make her evil plans and mess with some other part of the universe. But the dead were off-limits.

Then I remembered that he'd never wanted me to know him so well, that he'd rather I be gone or even dead, and I told myself I had no freaking idea what that sadist wanted.

Shay was staring at the ceiling and Brook was slumped on the table, nails digging into her scalp and silver eyes wide and blank, fixated on something I couldn't see. Her lips moved as she worked through strategies. As she worked through Ethan's teachings, through what he would've done, as she was so good at. But not one worked.

And Hunter… I didn't even have to look…

"We have to try," she said coldly, holding Anonymous closer.

Shay, our survival expert, did the math in her head. "But that means-"

_"We have to try. _You want the world to fall and shrivel and be turned to ashes like it would've under the king from your bedtime stories? You want humanity to be wiped out because we were too stupid to save it? You want to be the one the Olympians blame for all this? You want to let children and innocent people die?"

"No," Shay spat, "but the chances-"

"Chances are chances, and if you had ever paid them mind, you would not be here today."

Shay fell silent, the grim answer to this deadbeat equation shining in her eyes.

Yet another of Nico's utterances arose from my mind. _We're going to die here, you know that, right?_

"We have to try," I agreed, closing my eyes and nodding. Yes, yes, I'd known that.

"Then it's settled." She marched out of the room. "We leave now. Fall in."

"Hunter, wait," Brook called. "We have to think this through. There are ways we could better our odds. Just give me a minute to think."

They had forgotten Nico. He still stood quietly, watching with silent eyes.

Hunter sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Look, our biggest problem is getting there. Sure, we'd be pretty fast with time-warp and shadow travel, but by then we'd be too exhausted to kill an empousa, and that's not high on my to-do list. But walking is too slow. And so is talking. So if you have a brilliant idea to figure out that problem, we'll take it and go."

Brook muttered to herself and thought. "Night! Get down here!" There was a bark from upstairs and the clacking of claws on wood.

Hunter gave Nico a narrow-eyed glance. "And you? You have plans?"

"I'm coming," he said stiffly. "It seems that you could use all the help you could get. And I'm not inclined to see Orpheus play his music tricks on my people."

My people. Hmph. All high-and-mighty. I ignored him and looked away.

"Plus," he added, intentionally loud, "there is a thing or two I know that might be of use."

"You never wanted to teach me, anyway. No point in continuing the mentor gig now," I spat. "That ship has sailed."

"Bree-"

"No. Just don't."

He sighed heavily. "Well. If we could at least figure out why he's here, then it'll help a lot. Maybe we might even-"

"That's it! You're a genius, Night!" Brook yelled, and leapt onto the table in such a rush even Night flinched. And that was before she drew the bow.

And before she put an arrow in my wounded shoulder.

My hand flew to the protruding shaft and I stumbled back in shock. A strange rasping sound came from my mouth. Strangely, it didn't hurt much. More of just a pinch.

"-Hey!" Nico and Hunter yelled, the latter jumping between us. "Bree's on our side, dimwit!"

Shay just stared, looking quite startled.

Heat began to spread from my shoulder. Burning, itching heat.

Brook smiled reassuringly at me. "Don't worry. It only hurts for a minute."

I tried to spit something back at her, but all that squeezed past my throat was a dog-like yelp. The burn tore through my arm, my chest, even in my head, fizzling in my sinuses and making it feel like someone was stretching out my nose. My legs wobbled.

"Oh…" Shay said, seeing something I didn't.

Nico rounded on Brook. "What in Hades's name does _that _do?!"

"It's an animal equipped for long-distance running. We can cover miles and miles like this," Brook said, waving at me.

I held up my hand to swat her pointing finger away, but I froze when I saw it. It had turned black. I mean black, black like the sky would be if we failed that night. Wait, no… It wasn't my hand, it was… fur? I had fallen to all fours now and to my utter shock, my knees did not touch the floor.

I turned around, craning my neck to see why. But I became too distracted when I saw the tail.

What… She could've _asked _first!

My ears flattened and I made to cuss her out, despite the best efforts Hunter and I made to keep her own mouth clean, but all that bubbled through my teeth was a growl.

"Wolves," Nico growled. "You honestly plan to shoot us with magic arrows and turn us into – of all creatures – _wolves."_

Brook, from her very tall place on the table, beamed. "Yes. Who's next?"

oOo

Wolves are interesting creatures.

They are strong and lean. I could feel it in my new animal-muscles. Their fur is thick and warm and gleams in the light. And it itches slightly, but one gets used to it. They also have very keen smell, and very sharp eyes.

I was wandering through the kitchen, absorbing all the new smells. What a curse this was. Learning so many lovely new things, opening my nose and eyes to so much more of the world that I'd walked on every day without a second glance, just hours before we were to be killed. Dust had never been so interesting before. But that musky scent definitely was now.

Behind me, Brook was barking orders at us, having turned herself into a wolf last. I did not bother to ask when she had killed a wolf and gained the ability to use these spells – just two weeks ago, we had discovered that she could also turn into a tiger, so this was quite bland in comparison. She was telling us to stick with the pack. She was to lead with Moon at her side, followed by Hunter. Shay was to stay in the middle of the pack, since nobody knew her well and they would have problems working together. I was to guard the rear. Nico could go get eaten if he wished.

I stuck my nose under the stove and whimpered. The rotting smell of a dead mouse was sickly sweet. It burned my nose. But it was something, and right then, I was glad to feel anything at all.

"_Bree!"_ Brook barked. Her tail slapped the ground impatiently. "_Get over here!"_

"_Sorry_," I whined, trotting up to join them. I caught sight of my reflection in the stove's glass; black fur that shone in the light in the way only black could, with a white splash over my left eye and my right hind paw. My wolf-irises had left their usual obsidian color behind and taken upon the deep, shimmering purple that they did only when I used magic.

"_We're leaving_," announced a large golden wolf with a black underbelly. Her black paws and tail tip were twitching nervously, ears and eyes swiveling every which way. All these heightened senses were affecting everyone.

The dreadful clack of claws announced the pack coming down the stairs, Moon at their head. She looked alarmingly like Brook, actually. The lean, blue-grey wolf that was Shay backed up quickly as they passed.

Moon's ears flicked when she saw us. "_Nobles creatures, become you are. Great wolves. Good pack."_

Nico gave a rude hacking sound and bared his teeth.

Her gaze landed on him and lingered in a very intense way. Another sharp retort was sure to come from her. But she strode forward and cocked her head to one side. He cowered beneath her gaze.

Long fangs clacked together sickeningly. "_Bad not, Death Child. Wolf is nice in you. Demigod word be what, Mistress? __**Hot,**__ correct?"_

Nico growled and flattened his ears, tail squirming in panic.

Moon chuckled and shoved him aside with one paw, swiping his face with her tail as she went, and fell into place beside her Mistress.

Nico, who had nearly fallen over in all his panic, whined and hid behind the couch.

"_Serves you right_!" I barked, making odd hiccup-sounding laughs. Any form of revenge I could get on him before we died, I'd take.

A low growl answered. His cobalt-blue gaze opened to assault the angry Night. _"I hate your ideas."_

"_Good. I hate you as a wolf,"_ Night spat, in surprising English syntax despite the wolf language and Moon's dialect. "_Moon likes you too much."_

"_Guys,"_ Hunter gasped between giggles. "_We have to go_."

As if to remind us, a horrible sound went off. It had to have been miles and miles away, but it was still loud enough to shake the house. The blood-curdling screech of a drakon.

The sound was like ants in my fur. I flattened myself to the ground and whined.

Wolves have good hearing, too.

"_Come on, guys. Let's go_," Brook said, and leapt out the broken window without a second thought.

oOo

The feel of the dried-out, coughing, prickly, fallen grass. The stink of the city and the fresh wind from the north. I could even pick up the reek of the drakon's trail.

Several times I found myself looking at the sky. As we ran, and we ran fast, the yellow stain of the city began to fade. The stars were still well beyond my sight but I knew, I knew they were there.

The stars that had been over Mount Othrys and Olympus and had seen Ethan's birth and Ethan's long fall and so much more than that. The stars that had seen everything. From the first monsters of Greece, from the birth of the gods to this…

The slight lift in the mood from Moon's sudden change of heart seemed a million miles away now.

The further north we went, the more trees there were. The pack was surging up ahead. The beat of paws and the panting in their breath. Little barks and the twitches of whiskers that said things. A beautiful language, they had. I didn't blame Moon for not wanting to leave it behind.

Part of me wished I didn't have to guard the end of the patrol. I wanted to be with Hunter and Brook. I'd always imagined death like that; I would face it wearing the same color I always had and with no altered thoughts and with my sisters at my side.

But they were up ahead, and I was wearing fur instead of clothes, and my thoughts had been changed.

Should I tell them of Gaea, before we died? Should I tell them in case we live? Not that I trusted Nico, but I had my own reasons that happened to match his… And then there was the fact that I was no longer a demigod. I had been, for a while, blessed by Nico's rant, until I discovered that it hadn't been true.

Now I didn't know exactly what I was going to die as.

With luck, we'd take out Orpheus. But even then… Gaea could bring him back…

I looked to my right. And I stared this time. I didn't look away. Maybe all I had to do was stare hard enough, and he'd come back.

Oh, and there was that. My fury. Such a petty emotion to die with, but I did not care. Nico should know, talking to ghosts so much, having spoken to Ethan himself (as I'm positive he had) what grief felt like. And his own mother had died because someone was trying to prevent a prophecy. Didn't he want her back? What was so wrong with my suggestion?

I could save Ethan. Why shouldn't I?

I'd always imagined him at my side when I died, too. It was a surprise to not have that option now. Even after all this time.

But I had to believe there was the slightest hope. Maybe, if Orpheus failed, The Patron would discard him and leave him to rot in the Underworld. Or to prosper – not sure where he was going to end up.

The stones. Ah. If we could destroy those, and then I died, it wouldn't matter who came up next. It would be over. The stars would be safe. I was positive that Gaea had other backup plans, but Annabeth could figure those out. Especially once she got the note Nico had scribbled on paper, explaining this mess, and stuffed in the mail.

Maybe Olympus would wake up and come back. Or at least Hades, at the death of his favorite child.

If you speak of the Devil, he shall appear. And so it was that I caught sight of a black wolf falling back from the bulk of the pack and casting a blue glance at me.

I huffed and turned away. Even now, after he admitted to hating me, did he continue to play this game? Must still be something he hid.

There was always something.

"_Bree, could I have a word?"_ he hissed between his teeth when he was in earshot.

_"No. I'd welcome you to have it with Phil, but he's safe and sound back at the base. So it seems you're alone right now."_

_"Bree, listen. This isn't just between you and me anymore. The question you asked earlier and the things I tried to teach you matter to all of us now. You saw Orpheus for yourself. The dead-"_

_"I'm not inclined to believe any of that, strangely."_

_"Bree, listen to me. Orpheus is here, and we have to find out why. If nothing else, help me do that, because Hunter and the others won't-"_

_"Ever stop to think," I growled, "that maybe he likes having himself a second chance?"_

To my utter shock, he barked angrily and threw himself in front of me. I skidded to a panicked halt, paws flailing and tail going every which way in a desperate struggle for balance. I stopped right beneath his blazing blue glare.

_"Death,"_ he snapped, elongated canines in my face, _"is not like Life. Orpheus was happy where he was. Most of them are. If not happy, they are at peace; they do not long for much. They know their lot has already been cast and they live it out for all eternity. And Orpheus was in the Underworld's favorable side. There is no reason for him to be here. This world hurts him as if he still lacked a body; this world is his torture. The dead aren't meant to come back. No matter who they are and what they can do and what the living want."_

My ears went back and my claws dug into the dirt. _"You don't know that."_

_"I do. I've lived in the minds of the dead and they've lived in mine. Look at Orpheus. I don't know if you heard him yell earlier, but he's coming off his hinges. There is no reason for him to be here, he would not __**be **__here, if there wasn't another source of torture working behind the scenes. It takes horrors beyond morality to do what Gaea has done to him-"_

_"Oh, great,"_ I snarled through curled lips. I stood abruptly and shouldered him roughly aside. "_What are you accusing me of, exactly?"_

_"Nothing!"_ he swore, trotting to catch up. _"But you don't understand – you have to listen-"_

_"Nico, I'm __**done **__listening to you. You've made your opinion clear, so I'll take the high road you pretend to walk and respect that opinion. I won't interfere with you anymore. And you shouldn't interfere with me."_

_"Bree! Please! You don't understand!"_

_"I think I do."_

"_This… Look, it's about Ethan, too, and you can't just keep going like this-"_

Now it was my turn. I whirled on him and he froze except to flinch. _"Don't you __**DARE **__say his name to me!"_

He whined and lowered his head.

_"You've made your opinion of Ethan pretty clear, too. I guess that one doesn't matter, though, because it'd probably be faster for us to go and get this fight over with and meet him there than to cast any spell. Leave us alone."_

He stared silently. When I thought he would say no more, I turned and walked away.

But his voice followed. A soft, almost scared whimper_. "But if… You don't know what you're doing… Someone has to teach you…"_

_"I can teach myself, thank you. Or maybe Ethan one day, as he used to."_

He had no answer for that.

oOo

Trees. Big trees. They towered above us and let the rustling of their leaves be a soothing lullaby. The kind you don't want to wake up from.

The kind you won't.

The trunks were like walls, they were so wide. Perfectly toned red wood and a wonderful patchwork of shadows thrown across the grassy floor. The sun retreated beyond their branches and leaves even in the winter. Many of them had not lost those leaves; several others stood, knobby and naked, like stripped and tortured bones. The twisted branches and horrid positions screamed for them.

We had become one with the silence. Agile wolves and pumping muscles and light, swift footsteps. But no sound. Nervous glances and that silent language of pelt twitches and ear swivels. But no wolf-words. Not even spiteful Hunter dared to break it. No wish for good-luck or bold display of independence, of strength, of hope.

Just silence.

It was comfortable. Not much else, but comfortable. Which was pretty rare these days.

Nico had fallen into a strong, bothersome state of melancholy. He shook his head and bared his teeth and mouthed things back at his thoughts. He twitched and his ears moved and conflict inside him was clear as day. Restless paws jumped and skipped even as we ran.

Brook had, as Brook tends to do, submersed herself in her work. Moon was talking with her through their minds again and she was with her pack. She tended to them, spending time with each one, silently going over battle plans. Working with strategies. It was simpler to her; when she was at work, it wasn't us doing the fighting. It was little figures that could mean anybody. It was no longer 'this is impossible, we know we can't win, and we're going to die against that giant snake and its allies' – it was merely 'No, that wouldn't work. Nor would that. Maybe this.'

Shay was… new to me, and therefore difficult to read. Her eyes were closed. We did seem to be heading slightly west; perhaps the sea was nearby.

Hunter was of course at our head, staring into the forest beyond, sure-footed and confident. Or so she appeared. But I could see the twitch of her tail and the small, worrisome glint in her eyes. My pillar of stone and strength had had her thoughts poisoned as I'd had mine; she was no longer so confident in herself, no longer so sure, no longer so strong.

Hunter, unconfident. That in itself was such a tragedy that I wasn't sure if I should even bother. That I shouldn't have ignored the voice's warnings.

But I had to keep going, because it was no longer me; it was the orbs they had. Should Orpheus get that lyre, even if the rest of the stars became unreachable, he could influence the gods. I knew he could because we all knew the story of when he'd used his music to persuade Hades into giving his wife Eurydice back from the dead. The only reason Eurydice had not come back was because of Orpheus's own failure; he broke his deal with Hades and looked upon her before she had crossed the Styx and back into life with him. If Orpheus turned that lyre onto Zeus…

So we really did have no choice. I wished Ethan were here.

The grass, no longer quite so dead beneath my paws, offered very little underbrush. But I saw sunlight breaking through the sorrowful trees up ahead and crouched down. There was a heather bush not far off. I scurried off behind that. Up ahead, the pack had taken to ducking behind trees. I understood clearly; we were to send a scout ahead and come from the trees slowly. It'd be stupid to charge out there blind.

Then I saw Brook, back in demigod form, clinging to the branches of the tree above. And I knew that wasn't the case.

We were here. Orpheus and the drakon were in the clearing ahead.

oOo

**Nyx: No, I don't know if there's really a forest with big trees north of LA. But I like forests. So there's a forest.**

**Nic: Yay trees. Not enough of them these days.**

**Nyx: No, there is not. Anyway. Please, please, PLEASE bear with me, guys. I tried and tried to get this done on time. But things got loaded on again and the people I've been around recently are content to make it more complicated and there's a very real possibility that I will have to have a beloved pet (not my cat, a lizard) euthanized. So yeah, it's been a rough few days. I didn't even get the chance to work on the cover last night. D':**

**Nic: You, my friend, need to calm down. And watch anime.**

**Nyx: I tried that, but my channel only plays it on weekdays. Anyway. I have lost care for the poll so it'll stay up, I'll let myself forget about it, and check on it in maybe a few months and see what's happened to it. Please review, guys, and tell me how I'm doing. The next chapter is action, and action, and action, and as is the next like five. Yaay. Much more enjoyable to write. This book has been lacking action, hasn't it? So that'll be fixed. OH and I have a one-shot written I'll put on here when I find the time. Right now, I'm going to go work on that cover. See y'all on Monday!**


	50. Never Look Back

**DISCLAIMER: Guess what?**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: They are really random and Nico is familiar to me, so he shows up the most. Kronos might be **_**involved.**_** You're going to love And Eye For an Eye when it comes out (see profile). And the one-shot is, of course, about Nico.**

**Guest – Nyx: Glad you liked it :) Brook has a lot more epicness in the next book, too.**

oOo

Wolves are great, but I like hands. Hands are good for swords. They're simple yet complex. They make and destroy, both the good and the bad. They're good appendages to die with.

The clearing, still far ahead, was barely within earshot when I got my hands back, and that was in wolf form. Brook kept in the trees and the pack, their language a mystery to me once again, slunk along the forest floor on their bellies. Hunter, Nico, and I had to dodge around ferns and trees and a few other nameless plants.

The first thing we heard was Orpheus. "Here is fine! If the drakon senses something, then you should go. You are not something The Patron is willing to lose. Should you die on _my _watch, everything I've worked for is as useless as a chariot lacking wheels!"

Whatever reply he got, it was inaudible to us. "Yes! The dawn is near! Take Python and a patrol and _go!"_

The dying, blood-tinted sunlight was bright now. Red and green from the leaves and the black of the shadows. Ahead, the glaring outlines it made on the trees. I could even make out the edge of the clearing – long, crimson-stained grass. Somewhere not far off, I could hear the surf batting against rocks.

It was drowned out, though, by a sharp and short roar from the drakon. The ground shook as its great lizard legs stomped. I saw a giant claw rake a dark rift in the bloody grass. Then the high-pitched buzzing began. I knew it anywhere.

Wings.

The drakon lifted into the air, changing blood to shadow. Its great head rose above the trees and glimmered in an odd way, green goo and scales in bright scarlet light. The trees shook and bent and bowed in terror as it slowly chugged past.

The tree I hid behind began to wilt as poison dropped and sizzled at its roots.

Still I stared, paying my dues of awe to the great bulky body and the long, swooping tail. Around it were swarms of Venti. Thank the gods – we might stand a chance, with it and them gone.

Then I caught sight of the figure on its back.

Just a silhouette, black and contoured by that dripping, haunting burgundy. Perched there like the corrosive poison didn't bother it at all, or the rough and hard scales it sat on. An old instinct, old as Rome itself, sent hot pricks up my spine and in my throat, and I knew it was staring at me.

_Don't say I didn't warn you._

I was too startled to jump at the voice in my head, helpless but to watch as the figure turned back around and rode off into the bleeding skies.

That voice. I knew that voice. Older than my instincts, withered and hoarse and tortured. Deep and powerful but oh so apathetic.

The voice that'd delivered the prophecies. And suddenly I wasn't so relieved that it had left.

I glanced at the others. None of them acted as if something was wrong. They maybe hadn't seen it, and definitely hadn't heard it. Much to my further pain, my right side harbored nothing but the dying tree.

Several yards away, Nico's gaze fell on mine. He knew something was wrong. I snarled and tore my gaze away; if he could keep secrets and pull at my heart strings, then I could do the same to him.

Then the breeze picked up, playing with my hair and containing a scent similar to that of singed hair – the smell of magic – and riding on a loud but whispering voice. "Come out, heroes! I know you're hiding!"

Hunter's gaze locked on ours. We would not move.

"I am losing my patience!" Orpheus howled.

"Let's go," Nico whispered. "Let me talk to him. I think I know what's going on."

Hunter fixed a blazing glare on him. "We're not going to engage in any slick-talk with him, else we want to stoop to his level. We'll work around and ambush."

"I can hear you," Orpheus sighed. "Really, now. I can control the winds. And seeing as you ran this far out to meet me, I'm assuming there are no more secrets between us, anyway."

I shot a furious glance in Nico's direction, but let it slide.

"Stay put," Hunter hissed, but he had already stood and was striding out of the woods.

"I'm not," he growled, "going to pretend I know battle better than you, nor that I know less of the dead. Do as you want, but _I'm _going to go converse with a spirit who's no different than all the others." And off he went into the bright red light.

Just like the others? Like the trapped ones we'd met, Shane and the man from the hotel? Look, if Orpheus had come back, then life was to be desired. Orpheus must've been like Ethan. He must've been different.

"Orpheus!" I heard Nico yell. "Why are you here?"

The winds bounced and chuckled, chiming like the highest notes on a xylophone. "Define 'here'."

"You know exactly what I mean," Nico spat. "You weren't a coward and a traitor when we last met."

"When I taught you all I knew of the stars? Well. I've had some… personal revelations since then. I could teach them to you, if you wish. You would find them interesting."

I frowned. What on earth would the two of them have in common?

Hunter sighed heavily. "Come on, guys. He's blown the element of surprise and we'd need room to fight, anyway. Orpheus! We're coming out now!"

To my utter shock, a loud, cackling laugh sounded. This wasn't the man we'd met before; I could tell in a heartbeat. Something was wrong. Something had snapped. "Please do, my heroes! Join us!"

I slowly stood from my crouch and met their eyes, one by one. Shay's shone with fear. I stood on her right and followed Hunter out of the woods. Brook, wisely, stayed in her tree where she had a clear view and could shoot without trouble. Her pack emerged with us.

The clearing turned out to be quite large. The pink-red of early dawn was fading into true light, making the long grass the most appealing mix of green and shadow. It rustled in the wind when Orpheus spoke. There were maybe two acres of it. On three sides it was caged by the trees and the shadows. To our far left, the grass just ended, dropping off into the sky. From below I could hear waves.

I swallowed thickly and scooted to my right, away from Shay, away from the cliff.

"Orpheus," Hunter called. "Nico has an offer for you. If you'll take it… Well, take it up with him. If you don't, then we will kill you."

He laughed again. "In a position to make demands, are you?"

I flinched. Just being near him made it feel like my own flesh and mind were unraveling. At last, given away by the glowing morning sun, I got a look at him. And he was not as I'd imagined.

The tux was in tatters. Torn and dirty and shredded. The baton held in his twitching right hand was bent at the tip. Limp, greasy, unkempt brown-red curls were slumped on his head and hang in his eyes. It doused them in shadow, but I could see. Nothing blazes brighter than the eyes of the insane. They shone, glittered, sparkled like diamonds. Diamonds in deep pools of purple. His eyebrows had been pinned halfway up his forehead. And he was covered in scars. A sick replica of the Frankenstein monster – bright pink stitches in his wrists, across his throat, through the chest revealed by the torn suit. He looked like… well, like the walking dead. He made Nico look like a college prep student.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot, a sinking feeling in my chest. I didn't like this. I needed some sort of anchor. And the empty space to my right was not helping.

"Time," Orpheus laughed, "is not on your side, as ironic as that is." More sardonic giggles. "It is on mine."

"Orpheus," Nico said, drawing Mνήμη. "We only want to help you. Whatever The Patron's done, we'll reverse it. Just give us the stones and tell us what's wrong."

_"No!"_

The childlike screech brought my breaths to a halt. The sound seemed to explode. I swear, I could feel it pound like a single, disobedient drum beat.

Orpheus cringed and fell to his knees, hands clamped over his ears. Nails dug into his scalp so hard I saw blood even from where I stood. _"No!_ You can't take me back! It wasn't my fault!"

"I know. The Patron-"

"IT WAN'T MY FAULT!"

Silence.

Orpheus began to laugh again. A broken sound. The sinking feeling went even deeper. "Just as it was never yours, Ghost King."

Hunter frowned. "Nico? What is he talking about?"

He did not get the chance to answer. A great sound, like the feedback from a speaker, crashed down on our ears. It slammed into my chest like an explosion. On the ground between us and Orpheus, the grass was uprooted, and dirt went flying. I could literally see ripples in the air as the sound waves echoed.

On cue, or perhaps he was just sick of waiting, a golden streak shot from the trees. The Manticore's battle cry seemed sad in comparison to Orpheus's explosion.

Behind it streamed five red-eyed wolves. The wind began to rise in a fast-paced, horrifying song.

At last. A language I understood.

oOo

The screeching melody of the wind was so full of energy. Dare I say it even lent it to me. Nothing was still; the grass bent and swayed and was splattered with black and red. The harmony of pained snarls and dying gasps and the base of swords in flesh and the cellos of the pounding footsteps and the beat of Orpheus's drum did make the most interesting song.

I played my part. Soldier was a role I knew well. I focused on the pull and push of Întuneric. It worked with me, and we were one. It helped me leap around on nimble feet and force my panting breaths in and out of my lungs.

Entertaining, it was. Much like playing my violin.

Demon claws flashed like strobe lights in the gleaming dawn. Blood and war unleashed its song that beautiful morning. I liked it, honestly, much better than I did the broken and out-of-tune symphonies of the city.

I whipped around, snarling at two wolves that'd snuck up behind me in the fray. One bared its teeth and stalked forward. The other flinched and fell dead as a silver arrow appeared in its skull with a satisfying _crunch._

The remaining one barked and lunged.

I ducked and slid beneath, letting Întuneric flow upwards and split its middle. My feet danced away and into the fight again, narrowly dodging a moving pile of mud. It twitched and expanded and even growled in time with Orpheus's tune. I hacked at a Ventus nearby but tried desperately to stay near. I had to get its attention, and make sure it was alone…

I batted away at another wolf, laughing at its pained whimper. The mud roared angrily from behind me.

That was my cue. I turned and flung furious, boiling shadows with all of my hate into it. The great creature Orpheus had sung from Gaea raised its six arms and screamed. A ugly ogre, composed of dirt and stone and big enough to easily be twice my height, thundered at me.

I laughed at it and nimbly jumped to one side. Its rancid breath blasted my face as it passed.

The demon roared and yanked a hard stone easily three times the size of my head from the ground and flung it. "Bad Haf-Brood!"

Quite an offensive term, but I didn't think that was intentional.

Anger boiled inside. Anger and hate and hot, hot blood. The rock burst into pieces and I charged.

Killing demons was fun.

I sliced through the ogre's middle – earning a disgruntled "Uh-oh!" from it before it melted into boiling mud once more – and, still thirsty, barely controlled my lunge at the next Ventus.

From behind, though, something snarled and leapt. The ground shook and claws slammed into the ground inches from my feet.

I whirled and ducked, barely dodging Dr. Thorn's massive paw as it swiped through the air. Move, move move! I was in no mood to disobey the song or the fight. I ran straight under him, ripping at his belly the same way I'd done to the wolf.

The cat sprung up straight into the air and landed with a bristling tail, fangs gleaming like knives.

As I danced between its claws, I caught sight of Hunter nearby. She was playing with Anonymous and three wolves. At her side was the ferocious Moon, nothing but claws and slobber-coated teeth. The wolf flung herself onto an adversary and brought him to the ground, teeth so deep in his shoulder it was a wonder she was able to pull her mouth free.

The Manticore's claws flashed in the air just inches from my face, demanding my attention once more. It opened its mouth and curled its giant pink tongue in a hiss.

I flung shadows into its gullet. For a moment, golden dust began to melt off its fur, but before the thing could even disintegrate it was on me again.

Dance, dance, dance. Delicate movements. I had missed the beat and familiarity of a mass battle. This wasn't quite it, but the footwork was definitely comforting.

Brook had figured out that killing them was doing no good. I saw a silver arrow appear in the head of another earth-ogre, and he shrank into a little leopard gecko, a predatory (but pretty useless) little lizard. It opened its wide jaws in panic and scampered away, tail left behind on the ground.

As I ducked beneath the Manticore's tail, the winds picked up again. Orpheus's torn and shattered voice was like ice on my skin. "Don't you realize that you could have it, too?! Just ask The Patron! She shall give it!"

The shadows, restless, burst a nearby Ventus into smoky tatters.

The Manticore howled and pounced again. Its tail flicked and fired bolts towards where Brook hid. "Come here, _half-breed!"_ it snarled. "Come here, _kitty kitty kitty!_ How does it feel, huh?! How does it feel!"

"Honestly?" I asked, raking shadows down his blue eye. "Pretty good."

He shrieked and lunged.

Water, salty and actually still full of fish, slammed into his side. The wet cat yowled and went sprawling into two demon wolves.

Not two yards away, Shay smiled at me. Then another earthy ogre slammed a rock into her shoulder, and after nearly falling to the ground – a fatal mistake – she was occupied again.

The winds shrieked. "It's over, Ghost King! Look at the skies!"

From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the madman. His baton had turned into a crooked Celestial bronze sword. Not a single fresh slice had been made in his tuxedo, despite Nico's best efforts. Music bent the earth at his feet and made his sword quaver and miss. His eyes were furious, nearly as bright as Orpheus's, and he yelled something about yes, yes, it'd been Orpheus's fault, and that he would never repeat that mistake.

I had no idea what they were talking about. Just that it was another secret Nico had kept from me. But the fury was welcome on this dark day.

Then something went wrong.

I could feel it. Magic, twisting and bending, the torturing of another dimension. The shadows jolted and bucked. And a cold, dazzling taste lit in my mouth.

My signature. It was _my _magic.

Overhead, a large dark splotch appeared in the clouds. The Manticore paused to observe it and smiled. Sharp fangs glimmered. "Admiring your work, Daughter of Darkness? Quite a thing of beauty. Pity you need Orpheus's help to pull that off."

I stared up at the black shadows. "…What is it?"

"It is your masterpiece. Your magic brought it back," the Manticore smiled, and swatted at me once more.

But I understood. It was the constellation.

The Daylight Disaster.

I blasted shadows at the demon to knock him aside. "Hunter! Look up!"

"See it," she grunted, dodging an ogre. "Tell that to your brother!"

I turned. Nico was still fighting with Orpheus. Profanity was flying in the winds now.

The Manticore howled, ready to lunge again. I left it behind and shot through the shadows to Nico's side.

Strange, that's what it was. I was twisted and pulled and bent. The shadows were in agony, doing things shadows weren't meant to do, bending the weak rays of sunlight. A horribly cold mind loomed nearby, the same way my father's had through the shadows at the Battle of Manhattan.

It was very painful.

Yet somehow I made it. Color bled into the world once more, and I now stood behind Orpheus. The man was crying and slicing at Nico with a shaking hand.

My traitorous brother narrowly dodged the sword. His eyes were wide in panic. Panic that went deeper than a blade could.

"Nico! The skies! The Daylight Disaster!" I warned, slicing at Orpheus's shoulder to distract him. The wind ripped Întuneric straight out of my hands. I stared after it in astonishment.

Nico was worried about a different disaster, though. "You're wrong," he rasped, staring wide-eyed at the man aiming to kill him.

"I'm not," Orpheus growled. "You think I would be?"

"Misery loves company. You're lying."

"It is not misery, child. It wasn't my fault when Eurydice died. And it wasn't mine that we were brought back. But I have a chance to fix it now. It wasn't my fault the Fates ripped her from me even when I'd won her back fair and square, painlessly, the first time around." He paid me no heed and lowered his sword. "And you… You came even closer. Do you think Gaea has overlooked that?"

_ Came even closer…_

The implication hit like a rock, stronger even that the tortured shadows that were twisting my mind in unnatural ways. "…Came closer to what?"

Orpheus glanced at me. "Oh? You don't know?"

"Leave her out of this," Nico rasped. Tears had gathered in his eyes.

"You're the one who brought her into it," Orpheus snapped. "You're the one that lied."

"Stop," I said, praying Întuneric would come back soon. The pressure of the shadow-cloud, which was getting closer, was making my knees weak. "He's right. Leave me out of it. Please. He never wanted me involved in anything."

"That's right," Nico growled. I don't know why that still hurt, but it did. "Don't bother her."

"What? Are you afraid Gaea will find Ethan, too?"

I froze. "Ethan?"

Orpheus rounded on Nico. "Listen to me. It was hardly a year ago. It was the first death of one of Hades's children in nearly a century. Zeus and Poseidon had hunted the rest of you down. Do you think that was quiet? Do you think I am lying?"

Nico just glared at him.

"And you… You made it even bigger. You made it impossible to ignore. You had Daedalus at your feet, offering her back to you. All you had to do was cry her name as you killed him."

Daedalus? What did the destruction of the Labyrinth have to do with this?

"There's a reason," Nico rasped, "that I didn't."

"It does not matter. You've brought Gaea's wrath down on your sister, and you know it. She sits now next to Eurydice, trapped beneath the traitor's knife. Every move you make hurts her."

"Who the hell is Eurydice?!" I cried, looking around. I saw no one but us.

The Daylight Disaster was like the weight of a train now.

"You did it," Orpheus hissed. "You did what I did, and you came even closer."

And then it clicked.

The night the Manticore had found us for the first time, he had towered over Nico. _There were two of you, _he'd said.

Two. Two children he had lured from his school, Nico and one other.

I recalled Nico's looks of hate. Like I was something he couldn't stand to look at. Like I was a monstrosity. And I recalled him stumbling over the story in the Labyrinth. Talking of Minos. _He… He taught me the wrong spell._

"You lied," I rasped. "Minos taught you the right spell, didn't he?"

Nico was silent.

"You could've said something! Great gods, Nico! I thought… I thought you hated me! I thought you… I didn't realize…"

His eyes met mine, and in them was that same look. The one I'd dreaded. Strong, unyielding emotion that I'd run from time and time again.

But I had misread. That was not hate in his eyes.

It was pain.

The sudden lack of my own snapped my attention away. The shadows had landed in the clearing; a tight ball of them was spinning around. From beneath, bright, shining starlight began to glow. Hunter and Shay burst apart from the demons and retreated, sprinting for where Brook's tree was. The pack followed.

From his jacket, Orpheus began to draw the orbs for the spell.

I watched in horror as the shadows fell away. I knew that figure, the four-legged creature that stood in the center of the clearing. The other demons parted to make way for it. The starlight faded and it solidified, all too real. The Daylight Disaster finally stood before us in all its glory.

And in that moment, I knew we were too late.

Orpheus could do anything with that creature at his back, and we wouldn't be able to reach him. There would be no killing that thing and stealing the orbs no matter how hard we tried. There was no stopping it.

Brook, utterly shocked, dropped from her tree and squinted at the newcomer. And she broke into a smile. "Reeses!"

oOo

**Boom.**


	51. Man's Best Fiend

**DISCLAIMER: Oh, HoH. If the series was ours, guys, we'd be blaring spoilers all over the place. So clearly, Rick Riordan still owns it.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Emoxkitten – Kolkolkol. Thanks so much. Please forgive us for the late update. :) And I will be working on a Kronos one-shot for ya soon, btw. It will be funny.**

**Cookie Spasms – Nyx: Yes, I have heard Atlas. Can't say I like it much. In fact, Viva la Vida and Clocks are the only Coldplay songs I like. Oh, and Paradise. That one's not too bad. But it's rare for me to like slow songs, and even rarer for me to treasure the electronic sound. It aggravates me. **

**Guest that I suspect is also Cookie Spasms but didn't sign any other name – Nyx: The elementary school Nic and I went to had three stories and a basement. Guess where the gym was? Cafeteria? Art room? All on different floors. It was great. Kept me in shape, actually. And as far as the plot line…. Heh. You'd be surprised. I'd be happy to elaborate, but I must keep some of my strategies secret, eh? =)**

oOo

The name felt like acid on my tongue, as if I'd been the one to utter such a vulgarity. No, no, no. That was not the dog's name.

What a horrible mistake to make.

I grabbed Nico's hand and bolted through the shadows, grabbing Brook by the collar once I got there and yanking her back. "Stop!"

She gave me a puzzled look. "We have to help Reeses! Orpheus has him!"

"It's not Reeses!" I snapped, pinning her squirming arms to her sides. "Not like you know him!"

I heard her voice from earlier, talking about the ham she held out to feed the monster. _You can find it just fine, see? Just like you always do._

_ Always._

Reeses, hearing Brook's familiar voice, swiveled his massive head towards us. Blind eyes opened.

Brook fell silent.

I had seen the same things in eyes of the opposite color, the same things in the green of the drakon. The same things in the blood-splattered crimson of Laelaps. The corpses of life's thrills and forefront sorrows, drowned in an obstinate pool of blood. The mind of a dog fallen into that of a demon. Wisdom and knowledge and a ever-hungry desire for teeth in flesh.

My mind flashed back on Hunter's description of the man's body she'd discovered. Those eyes had been the last thing he saw; I had no doubt.

The other demons glanced at the dog, back at Orpheus, at us. But none dared attack without an order.

Hunter snarled and stepped forward, brandishing Anonymous. An angry red gash had been opened in the center of her chest. I cringed at the sight. "Well? What are we waiting for?! Let's kill it!"

That was even worse. I don't even recall moving, but somehow I was there, standing before her with my arms flung wide, the only thought that I had to stop her. No. No, no, no, I would not lose Hunter. No matter what. "_Stop! You can't kill it!"_

"Watch me!" she howled, making to dodge around.

I flashed shadows in front of her path, bringing her to a startled halt. "No! You don't understand! There's only one dog up in the stars, and that's Laelaps."

The name sparked dark recognition in Shay's turquoise eyes. "…Laelaps?"

I nodded, mouth too dry to speak.

"You don't mean that," Brook muttered. Silence. "No, seriously, you don't. That's Reeses."

"Brook," I croaked. "We only ever saw Reeses at random times during the day. You have no idea where he's been when he wasn't at the house." For example, chasing a giant fox across the sky. No wonder he hadn't shown up overnight – he was busy chasing his quarry.

And Laelaps always caught his prey.

Always.

Hunter slowly pulled her scythe back to herself, eyeing the demons. "…Alright. Alright. Any suggestions? Nico? …Nico, you alright?"

I looked at my brother. He had become glassy-eyed, straight as a rod and dead to the world. The sight set so many thoughts loose in my head that I had to look away. Like bees – they shot around blindly and crashed into the inside of my skull, stinging it, sending shots of fury and regret and pity and betrayal through my veins. The noise they made was like thunder.

Across the clearing, behind Laelaps and the demons, Orpheus began to sing. This song wasn't like the others. It was sick, twisted, notes ripped across measures and rests splattered across the page, representing the silence of a dead man's heart. A song truly worthy of a madman. Over his head, the stones began to float.

The sight was like being punched in the stomach. Was this really it? Were we damned to watch the spell that'd do us in, that'd turn me against everything I believed in, against Brook and Hunter and Moon and even Shay. Against innocent humans. I'd become the demon singing that song, the demon Kronos had tried to forge out of me. And I was to just _watch?_

Laelaps got to his feet and began to pace beside Orpheus, giant paws disappearing into the grass without a sound.

"Nico. Hel-lo," Hunter demanded, prodding him in the shoulder so hard he nearly fell over.

He stumbled, found his feet, and blinked at us as if he'd been asleep. "…Hm?"

She jabbed a finger at Laelaps. "Big demon dog. Orpheus stealing lyre. Ideas, Ghost Boy?"

Nico's dull black gaze fell on Laelaps and slid away. "I… I don't know. The stars are beyond me. Maybe, if you all charged, he'd get confused and you'd have the time to get to Orpheus. Or you could use shadows and confuse him as to where the blasts are coming from. So he can't pick which prey to chase."

"With all those demons ready to attack? That's a great idea," Hunter spat.

At the same time, Brook started. "_'You'_? As in just us? You're not coming?"

The bees grew bigger. I turned and tried to calm my breaths. Strangely, the lack of him in my sight did not help.

"I…" Nico stuttered. "I… I told you. Why he's here. It's important. He's here because The Patron brought his wife back first. They're torturing Eurydice so that he does their bidding. And he said… He said they had another…"

Cold realization from Hunter. "It's your sister, isn't it?"

I whirled, shocked beyond words. "You… You… _You knew?!"_

Hunter blinked at him through guarded eyes. "No, not for sure. But my father taught me that to love something is to destroy yourself. Personally, I never took after it, but I know the concept well enough to recognize it in someone else."

Guilt. A new emotion. I turned away once more.

Shay's gaze found mine, though. Surprise glimmered in those familiar blue depths. "You guys… Didn't know? About Bianca?"

Nico flinched. "Don't say that!"

"Sorry." She leaned down to looked back up at my lowered gaze. "I'd have told you if I'd known, Bree. But I thought you understood."

Too many things were going through my head, and I had as much clue as to what to say as to defeating Laelaps. Should I forgive him for hiding it? Should I let out my fury and yell at him for that? Should I apologize for what I'd done, even though I hadn't known what I was doing? Or should I call him a hypocrite and walk away, walk away and never come back, because if I was sure of one thing it was that we were no good for one another, in any way shape or form.

Well. Hard to say that. I didn't know him at all anymore.

Yet could I blame him for lying now?

"I'm seventy-five percent sure he's lying," Nico rasped. "But with the Underworld shut down, I'm not sure if… If I'd be able to tell… And if he's not…"

Hunter sighed heavily. "Well. We're wasting time we don't have. Stand and fight with us, or get out of the way." At that she turned and marched forward. Not a moment did she hesitate when Laelaps flicked his ears in our direction.

Ahead, the orbs began to split open to the sick melody. Buzzing of nearby active shadows began on my skin.

Hunter glanced back at us and gave three signals, telling us where we'd go; I was to swing around on the left, the side where the cliff waited. Brook to fire and find another new vantage point. Shay to go from the left. Hunter up the center.

My gaze scoured the demons. Maybe, if there were no demon dog to back them up, we could've taken them. But not like this. Chances were we'd all be dead before we got within firing range of Orpheus. To top it off, the Manticore was missing. Great. We could expect an ambush now.

Then, from behind, something tapped my shoulder.

I whirled, ready to hack them through the middle with Întuneric, but it was only Nico. As before I froze when I saw him, as the bees took over. But I could no longer move.

"There's no time," he rasped, "to explain it now. But I lost everything once, and I'm not willing to lose it again. Mind if I join you?"

I should not play these games, these sick things that the Fates bid us to play. But I stepped aside and let him guard my left anyway. Help was help.

"When this is over," I managed, "I'd at least like to meet her."

Before he could comment about our deaths and the probability that she'd still be waiting for him, Hunter gave the signal to attack.

oOo

Broken.

It means 'out of order', 'no longer whole', 'not kept', 'weakened', 'destroyed', 'split apart', 'imperfectly spoken', 'incomplete', and 'disorganized'.

It means more, but those are the meanings I typically have for it. Especially now.

This thing was broken. The predator's skeleton, now well through with us, was happy to pounce and take a meal. It was so chaotic that I wasn't able to keep track of Hunter or even Brook's arrows. Orpheus's melody was putting cracks in our last defenses.

At first, I had sent terrified glances in Laelaps's direction, so scared that he'd start after Hunter or Brook that merely the thought of it threatened to knock me off my feet. But he remained at Orpheus's side.

Well. That settled it, then. So long he had only one subject to guard, it was not likely that we'd ever slip past him.

As if to remind me, right then the orbs had finished opening. Thin pillars of shadows burst forth and thrust themselves up, up, up, slicing through air and clouds and the lack of thereof. The agonizing twist in the magic dimension matched the sadistic melody. My mind seared and something in my chest felt like it'd been ripped out, turned upside-down, and shoved back in much deeper than it'd originally been. Cold, cold whispers came from those pillars.

But the last desperate throes of the fight pulled my attention away soon enough.

I flashed past the snapping jaws of a demon wolf and leapt straight for the next. Don't stop moving; that's what I knew. The ground was wet, so my feet knew to stay directly beneath me, and I stumbled through our shattered, long-lost dance. Orpheus's sick tune could never replace the beat I missed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Ventus charge. I dropped and rolled as it flew past. Muscles burned as I leapt up and fired.

It just smiled and headed straight back, undaunted.

_ Yeah. Come and get it, buddy._

At that moment, the song grew faster and the shadows twisted again. I screamed and tried to drown it out – my own blast of shadows, wild and untamed. The demon slipped past again, a new pearly orb held it its inky claws.

Well, that idea could go up my-

"Bree!" Nico cried, cornered between two ogres. The bees were getting angry.

I turned and began slicing my way to him. "What-"

Something slammed into my side, so hard that the bees were drowned in a new wave and the pain in the shadow world was paralleled. The muddy ground and long grass felt as solid as concrete.

I hardly had time to see the white fangs of a wolf before I forgot my latest predicament and blasted it aside with shadows. The deadly glimmer of claws flashed by as it flew backwards.

The shadows were agonizing now, and the pounce from the dog had me seeing stars, but I rolled to my feet. Move or die, move or die.

A Ventus was waiting for me. I turned and slashed at it before I realized; it was already a target. Nico and I nearly crashed into each other as we attacked. I desperately tried to turn, slipping, lost in Orpheus's haunting song, but was hardly fast enough to attack the earth-ogres still on his heels.

The mere sight of him had heat swarming in my throat. I wished he were not there; s'not like we were doing any good together, anyway.

Overhead, the stars still shone. It hadn't been my imagination. The pillars of shadows had begun to spin around and around. The shadows began to lengthen and spread until a vortex was visible. Utter blackness, shadows darker than I'd ever seen, sliced through the weak dawn light and called the stars out like they were nothing more than cowardly school bullies. No blaring, harsh city light was there to stop them.

Part of me would've given anything to be back in that dreaded city.

Then, beneath my feet, the earth began to tremble.

_Oh, great gods._ I was beyond terror or dread at this point; I was just done. Sick of it and through with these games. Nico's, Orpheus's, Gaea's, even Dr. Thorn's.

Somewhere, Hunter cried out in warning, but we already knew. The earth began to ripple. The mud became all but liquid beneath my boots.

Move or die, move or die.

Another wolf leapt, nothing but a shadow and gleaming claws. Întuneric sliced clean through its muzzle. There was a nasty choking sound, and then it was replaced by an ogre. Muddy fingers dug their nails into my sword arm.

I scowled and kicked it away, adding just a little bit of shadows to make sure it worked. Then I lunged for another wolf. So sick of this, I was. I was going to throw myself a nice big hissy fit and take as many as I could down with me. I would slice down demons just because I could and lock them away, if not in Tartarus then in my mind and heart, knowing I had at least done something. That I hadn't waited around for it all to happen.

Once again, Nico and I found ourselves awkwardly dodging one another.

This resulted in another miss, and that led to a Ventus slicing open my left arm with his sword, and then the earth moved and I couldn't see him or Nico anymore.

The shadows pulsed, searing inside my chest.

I'd have tried to break the spell if it hadn't been for those orbs. For the broken melody they were enslaved to. Should I touch them, I knew I'd fall. I'd give in to that sick beat and that demon Kronos had whispered to me about.

To my right, surprisingly, I caught sight of Shay – she had worked her way over here. Or perhaps the demons had chased her, or she had chased them. Her gaze met mine, and she hacked harder at the wolves blocking her way. Salt water was springing from the ground and into their eyes.

I turned, met Nico's eyes. _Stay,_ I willed, and ran for Shay.

Of course, he turned and ran for her, too.

Idiot.

Since we clearly weren't communicating well, I left him to chase her and let the nearby ogre have it. Scratch my earlier statement; I didn't care how many died, I cared how many I touched. How many I could wound. How much of this pain I could send spiraling back Gaea's way.

There was an angry, small snarl, and a leopard gecko locked its tiny – but surprisingly fierce – jaws on my jeans leg. Still fighting.

I had just sent another Ventus shrieking when Shay appeared again, a large swath of water that shoved a wolf aside. She seemed to materialize out of the wild droplets.

"Bree!" she cried, letting sunlight flash off her daggers to get my attention. With a start, I realized I could hardly see it; the shadows were so thick, things were darkening.

I shoved a pesky ogre out of my way and nodded, signifying that I was listening.

"Laelaps!" she warned. "He's started growling!"

I had no idea what the dog was freaking thinking, only that growling was not good.

"We have to head the other way!" Shay continued. "We need reinforcements over there! The dog's mad and we can't see crap, and Hunter's wounded." She looked up at the blazing stars. Too bright, too close. "We have to do something fast!"

"Can we slip past him? The dog?" I asked, for a moment enjoying the image of slicing the creature in half from behind. As it turns out, I had to settle for another demon wolf.

"Him? Ha!" Shay laughed, now on my left side. I ducked out of her way as she brought her dagger down on a Ventus. We worked well together, actually. "He's a hunting dog. You ain't getting around that sucker."

"A hunting dog?" I heard Nico ask from ahead and to the right, his voice utterly stunned.

_Well, no freaking dur, Einstein._

Something in his voice rang, though. I felt like I should know what was on his mind. Could swear I almost did.

Almost.

I turned my back to Shay and blasted at another Ventus. It turned to dust and then smoke again as it shot at me. The ground was beginning to grow impatient. The little vibrations it made were throwing my balance off every time I moved.

Through the thick, suffocating black mist – it had swooped down like silence at a funeral – I caught one last glimpse of Shay. She had paused and was listening.

To what?

I found out. A deafening roar splintered the air and there was gold, golden fur and a brown eye matched by a glowing blue one, the lightning streak of claws as they came down. The Manticore burst from the darkness with lunacy shining in every single piece of him.

Something popped. Shay screamed and a poisoned dart pierced my thigh.

There was a gleaming grin, nothing but white fangs and two gleaming eyes through the mist. A cold chuckle came.

Then the white of claws once more.

I yelled and jumped back, screaming at the pain in my thigh. Added to what how the shadows were being bent, it shoved me past my limits. The claws came like mystical pendulums out of the black mist twice more – I jumped back, back-

-And then the ground wasn't there anymore.

Too late, I remembered the cliff.

_Well. That was quite ingenious,_ I thought. Then I fell.

oOo

Light.

It pounced on me as soon as I was beneath the swirling shadows Orpheus was using. Bright yellow and blazing blazing fires. Blue sky – blue! – and grey sea and angry red rock swam around one another as I plummeted.

Oddly enough, falling didn't make me feel heavy. Rather weightless, actually…

Weightless. It felt like pieces of me were floating everywhere, some even being left behind. Like my stomach. The flashing of colors hurt my head.

Worse still was the fear.

There was no meaning-of-life rant. There was no strange, peaceful conversation with death. Not even a wise note on Ethan's sacrifice.

Nope. Just terror.

It was the shortest, most horrible moment I'd ever had the opportunity to occupy.

I slammed into a small ledge not seconds after I'd fallen. The soft rock crumbled beneath me. Complete and utter horror gripped me; momentum was unstoppable, didn't matter how far I fell from, didn't matter whether I landed on rock or water-

-Something shot past me, tumbling as it went. Shay.

Then, rather suddenly, the rough scrape of my body against the rock was halted. A sharp pain wrenched on my arm. But instinct took over, and I grabbed the obstruction, gripped it with all I had. It was smooth and cold.

I wasn't weightless anymore. Eyes squeezed shut, gravity yanked on every stray limb, nails digging into my odd little savior. The pull of the earth felt like wolf teeth in my skin, like the pull of a hunter as they tried to rip the flesh off their catch.

Somewhere down below, I heard a splash as Shay hit the water. The sound made me cry out.

Air, air. All the way down into the white foaming waves that roared with anger. My heart was trying to pound its way through my ribs; also inside, I could feel the tortured screeches of the shadows.

And I heard…

Ethan's screams made me dig my feet into the cliff face. _No. No, not Ethan._ But there was indeed empty air and tons of space to fall and Ethan… Ethan was no longer here…

I didn't just hear his shouts. I swear, I could even hear him calling my name now.

"Bree! Bree!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and cried out. The shadows were so warped and seething that I knew we were out of time. Orpheus couldn't be but inches from his lyre. And the sky was empty. And Ethan was dead. I hadn't been able to save him from jack. I had let him die.

And Gaea needed me alive. What was the point of moving, exactly?

Hopelessness crashed down. Hopelessness and that last, obstinate terror of heights.

"Bree!" the terrified voice cried. "Bree, hold on!"

Hold on. I had tried, gods know how I'd resisted the slip of his fingers-

"Sis!"

The name hit me like a sledgehammer. That was not Ethan.

Slowly, my eyes cracked open. They were heavy with gravity's pull, with the instinct inside that screamed every millimeter of movement would make horrible things happen. But somehow I made out the funny image of the thing I clung to.

The hilt of a knife.

As I stared, another slammed into the rock inches to the left. And another two feet up.

I shook so badly I was sure I'd slip, fall prey to those dark whispers, but lifted my head.

Leaning over the top of the cliff, just out of reach of the cloud of shadows above him, was Nico.

"Sis!" he cried, drawing another card the color of his cobalt eyes. "Come on!" The card morphed into a Stygian iron dagger in his fingers, and he hurled it down with an uncanny accuracy.

My mouth ran dry at the thought of lifting my hands. "I…"

There was fear in his eyes, but he held it back. "Climb! One hand, then a foot, then the other two. Come on!"

I squeezed my eyes shut again. "No! I… Ethan…"

"Ethan didn't die so you could lose your life in the same manner," Nico warned.

I shook my head. The bees were back. "Shut up! I don't want to listen to you!"

"Bree, listen to me. I didn't lie. I'm not going to let you fall, you hear?"

The words made me shake harder. The knife's hilt began to slip as the rock beneath it broke.

"Bree, I'm sorry. I should've told you. It wasn't fair not to when you were so… When you look so much like her. Just listen to me, okay? Right now, if not ever again?"

"One more lie?" I rasped. "Ha. Very likely. S'not like I have much to find up there, anyway."

From somewhere in the clearing, Hunter's voice boomed, "COME AND GET ME, OVERSIZED FURBALL!" which insured me that despite Shay's warning she still had quite a bit of fire left. The Manticore screamed in fury.

"I didn't lie," Nico called. "And I'm not lying now. There's a way we can get out of this, Bree. We can stop him. But we need you up here to do it. Hunter, Brook, me – we all need you."

Hunter. Brook.

"Bree? Can I ask a favor?"

I glared up at him. "No."

"I just want to tell you a story."

I paused. A story. I shouldn't let him tempt me, I knew, but… A story. Like in the tunnels. Like when we sat in the parking lot and laughed. Or maybe a rant like when we'd sat in my room.

Regardless of this whole mess, I realized then just how badly I wanted to believe that those things weren't lies. That I wanted to hear another, and know it was true.

That I wanted my brother. The one that'd laughed during the snowball fight and blushed at the dandelion jokes and stayed for movie night and offered to train with me, despite… Despite the hell it must've been for him.

"Alright," I said, grabbing the nearest dagger. "One story."

oOo

**Nyx: GRRRR! TWO FREAKING EXTRA DAYS AND IT'S STILL LIKE THIS!**

**Nic: Whoa! Calm down!**

**Nyx: *crying* Why are these scenes hard?! It's Bree and Nico! In a battle scene! I should have these DOWN by now!**

**Nic: Ooo-kay…**

**Nyx: *sniffle* Sorry it's late, guys. We were considering putting the half of it I had done on time up Thursday, but that was vetoed. We decided it was best to just skip that update and put the whole thing up today. I had tons of crap going on and to top it off managed to get sick in the middle of it. And the pet lizard is still suffering. Life's been worse, but never this busy. SO SORRY you guys had to wait because of it. Forgiveness? Please?**

**Nic: Chill! It's alright!**

**Nyx: No, it's not! The first delay longer than 15 hours since… EVER! It's not okay!**

**Nic: You need to calm down.**

**Nyx: I can't! Someone tampered with my sweet tea behind my back! *wails* They made my comfort food decaf!**

**Nic: Aah… You know, that explains quite a lot, actually…**


	52. Broken Wings

**DISCLAIMER: GUESS WHO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE OF HADES IN LITTLE OVER A FORTNIGHT?! RICK RIORDAN!**

**Review Responses:**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: Yay! And it is very crack-ficish, btw. I had the idea while high on package upon package of a certain candy brand claiming that if I ate enough, I would taste a rainbow. For the record, no, a rainbow just tastes like water :/ horrible phrase for Skittles.**

oOo

Great. Climb one dagger higher, and I'll start. There ya go. One hand after the next.

There were two children. Children; hard to force that word on the elder, the sister. Their parents had left them at the hotel alone. She was forced to play pre-teen mother in a strange place where they knew no one and the people they did dare speak to had glazed eyes and couldn't pull themselves away from casino games or the arcade.

She knew that their parents were dead, but she wouldn't tell her brother.

Then one day, she didn't have to play mother anymore. A man in a blue and black pen-striped suit came to take them away. No more hotel, he said. It was time to face the real world.

But it wasn't as glorious as the strange man made it sound. The world was even more outlandish. Buildings pierced the skies and people overflowed everywhere. Things moved fast and the air was filled with the beep of machines. She didn't remember it being like that. Neither did her brother. But follow the man they did.

They stopped in D.C. for a while. He said they'd go to a nearby school that had dorms. She had to explain to her brother that dorms were naught but hotels built into the school, and that they were divided by gender. Suddenly the weird hotel seemed wonderful.

Never did they find out what happened. The man came back from registering them into the district with his suit torn and a whip in his hand. He told them to get in the car. He didn't raise the weapon on them, but they were afraid; they got into his car and off they drove, breaking limits and going well into the night before stopping for gas.

They drove until they reached Maine. She stayed close to her brother. She had 'found' some money the man left behind at the hotel and managed to pick up gaming cards from a store down the street in D.C. To keep him busy, she taught them how to play. And play they did, in that backseat. All the way to Maine.

"This is a military school," the man said with a smile. "You'll go here for a while. You'll know when it's time to move on."

He dumped them at the doors and left.

The boy and girl were split into their dorms. The sister did fairly well; she was long used to playing roles forced upon her. Student, child soldier, slave – whichever the school wanted her to be, she could do it. She wasn't happy, but she could do it.

The brother was a tad too young to understand. Do what he was told, that was it. But strangers? Listen to strangers? He'd been told not to. Even once he learned that his teacher's orders didn't have to go through his sister to be followed, he seemed to fall short of expectations. But the school had a policy on not giving up, on any child.

Except for one.

Nobody knew why Gabe, the boy's roommate, quit. Nobody saw him pack his stuff and leave. He was just gone. Two days later, a boy named Grover took his place in the brother's dorm.

Grover, at least, was happy to help. As much as he could. Said he'd been through school lots of times. Jittery kid, Grover was. He claimed it was because he was used to being picked on or bullied because of the muscular disorder that put him on crutches. Yet even when he spoke to the young boy, his voice shook. Scared, he was, though they didn't know it yet.

The brother knew that breaking rules wasn't a good idea. Falling short? That was okay. The people blamed it on him, but at least he'd been trying. To sneak out of class – now, the last time he had tried to find his sister, she'd been called to meet him in the principal's office ten minutes later. She'd told him to stay put and do as he was told.

"Just get through the year," she'd pleaded. "It's already late December; Christmas break is soon, and once that's done, just half a year to go."

He knew he would shatter whatever fragile peace there was, but he snuck out anyway.

And to his surprise, she didn't get on to him.

They had a fun time. Grover had hooked him up with soda and he'd brought it along. They talked and played their card game. Wasn't so bad.

The next day, a school dance was scheduled. Or was it a pep rally? Neither paid attention. The sister trusted Grover, but not the other students. Hardly even the teachers. She had problems enough trusting a classroom of them around her, let alone a whole gym full around her brother. So she grabbed him and went to the back of the room, to the bleachers, where no one could sneak up on them, and pulled out their card game. She had a surprise for him that day; another figurine to match his set. Just one piece left, and he'd have the full game.

Halfway through the dance, the vice principal came to them and asked for them to follow. The brother's heart sank. He knew it was his fault, for sneaking out. But somehow, since she hadn't punished him for it, he'd hoped it wasn't wrong and that the school wouldn't mind.

Out in the hallway, the vice principal vanished.

They turned, but he was not there. Just a dark hallway. The girl grabbed her brother and all but flung him against the lockers, then pressed flat along them at his side, and held a finger to her lips.

Noises came from down the hallway. He wasn't tempted to speak.

There was the _shlith _of claws along the floor and a low, rumbling growl. A strange ticking noise started off loud and grew quiet very quickly. One blue eye glared at them from the shadows.

And then, bursting from the gym doors like a hurricane, came a boy with a glowing bronze sword.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "My name is Percy."

oOo

Perceus Jackson.

The name made me shudder. It wasn't a light term, where I was from; it was the name of someone powerful. No longer an enemy, but still powerful. Hearing the name announced like it was any other was unnerving.

Almost like hearing Ethan's name, thrown around so casually.

Overhead, Hunter was still screaming. "HERE, KITTY KITTY KITTY! I GOT A CHEESEBURGER FOR YOU!"

They were up there fighting. I tried to imagine that Ethan was up there, too.

Of course, gravity said that he wasn't. It whispered sinister things, things like Orpheus's song and the madness in his eyes and the screams I'd heard on August 18th.

But there was, of course, Nico's story.

"The boy's first thought was, 'Oh, dang. He's got a sword. Some serious junk's about to go down.' And then the principal attacked."

The black swirls overhead had begun to retract. Somehow, this hurt more; each beat was like a pulse echoing through the tortured magic. Something among them burned, seared, light so bright it would blind you even if you'd turned away. The pain was growing thicker. It made my arms shake, threatened to throw me into the sea, let gravity have me. Let me plummet down there after Shay.

Nails.

They dug into my wrist like claws, a hand clamped down so tightly my hand grew fuzzy. I was so startled I nearly let myself drop.

Nico stared at me, a single, mirthless bark of laughter escaping his throat. Lips twitched just barely. Then he lowered his other hand and hauled me back over the edge.

Grass. It touched my fingers. Long, soft grass. The sticky kind that made you wonder if it leaked sap like the trees. With Nico's help, I got the upper half of my torso on it. My legs still hung over the edge. He pinned my arms down and I swung my foot over the lip of the cliff, rolled, and…

…And that was it. Back on solid ground.

As if to remind me I was still close to the edge, the snarl of a wolf cracked in my ears, and a dark shape bolted towards us.

I held my ground, waiting, trusting, not even asking but merely knowing he'd be there…

The wolf never saw Nico coming. It was focused on me.

No sooner had it stumbled away did I roll to my feet. I had time to meet those dark eyes before a Ventus flashed between us.

Orpheus's melody twisted at my heart again. I gasped and doubled over. This was going to kill me…

No, it wouldn't. But I'd wish it had.

Nonetheless, I drew my faithful sword and dodged around its back, eyes snapping every which way, every movement. Two more at Nico's back, to my left. I dove for them as desperately as that song sounded.

The pain grew tighter, pulsing, the web of a demonic spider. I screamed and handed it to the demons by shadow and black, wicked blade. Întuneric trembled with me, but with me it did indeed stay.

I moved to the next, then to a wolf, then to dodging an ogre. It left me open to my right, but not for long. Shadows burst the Ventus to golden ashes.

Similarly, Nico left his own back unguarded.

There were a lot of things I still didn't understand, and my mind swirled between his story and that cursed song, but at least we wouldn't be the death of one another today. Perhaps quite the opposite.

Across the clearing, a massive golden pelt writhed. The great demon cat screeched as it flailed with wicked claws at Hunter. Hunter, a golden blur, slashing at it with bright whips.

Nearby, two more ogres formed. Nico and I split and approached from both sides.

Before I got there, my body convulsed again, racked by that haunting song. Orpheus's voice was the only thing I heard for just a moment. Just a moment, and it was awful.

Like nails on chalkboard, the scream of a tortured soul, something broken and evil and utterly chaotic raging-

Then it was gone. I stumbled to one side as the ogre I'd been unofficially assigned charged. Întuneric managed to slice its midsection in time.

Nico caught me before I could fall, black eyes guarded not with a wall but with his own thoughts, too strong and too deep for me to comprehend. "How much longer?"

"Not… Much," I gasped, straining. Against my best efforts, my fingers began to twitch to the beat.

_He must've done this at night last time,_ I thought. _It wouldn't hurt this much at night…_

Nico's gaze turned to where Orpheus stood, not but a blurry shape in the flurry of shadows. The hulking form of Laelaps was at his side. Two crimson, horrid eyes pierced the black magic.

Then he slid an arm around my shoulders and propped me up. "Listen. Don't waste any time, alright?"

"Hm?" I asked, wondering why he'd waste time stating it.

He cocked his head to one side and began to whisper.

The words were like ice on my spine, starlight on my tongue. A sweet, sweet, dazzling smell entered my nose. Of…

…Spirits?

Then I registered that he was speaking in Greek, and my breath caught.

The summoning spell.

Why…?

The words burned themselves into my brain, scalding my skull. I'd die three times over and be placed in Isles of the Blest before I began to forget those words. The mere mention of them made me shiver, took Orpheus's song aside for just a moment…

By the time he was done, though, the agony had grown worse. The song was louder. Screamed, torn, ripped from Orpheus's throat like a butcher pulls guts from a pig. The pillar of shadows was closing again. The lyre had to be close by.

I glanced at the sky, at the stars just barely visible through the magic. And suddenly it didn't matter that I'd failed the world; I just felt horrible that I hadn't been able to save _them._

"You know how long you'll have," Nico warned. "Think fast, and act faster." He set me down on the grass and paused only to beat a wolf aside. "Afterwards, call for me first! Bianca if that doesn't work!"

"…What?" I asked, bewildered now. I couldn't have heard him right through the song.

But he had turned, sprinting away from me and toward the writhing shadows.

I watched as he dodged a Ventus, not bothering to give chase, bent on whatever target he'd picked. One last thing reached my ears from over his shoulder.

"If all else fails, call for Ethan!"

And that's when it clicked, just a moment too soon and half a moment too late.

"_No!"_ I cried, stumbling to my feet.

Mνήμη slammed into Orpheus's shoulder, Nico's own shadows blasting from its tip to reinforce the blow. The black swaths were fringed with… frost? No, but something that glimmered and sparkled.

Orpheus's would've lost his head if he didn't stop and cry, a horrible note tearing through the forest and the air and the ground itself. Gaea stopped thrashing. Nico stumbled back, stunned.

But the song had been broken.

There was the almighty _snap _of the world's largest rubber band. The tension of the shadows vanished so fast, the recoil sent me sprawling on the grass again. Light burst down from the sky once more to light the grass and the blood spilled across the clearing. More orbs than I could count dropped down, pointlessly, bouncing across the muddy ground.

Orpheus stared with an open mouth. No lyre rested anywhere in sight. The spell was shattered.

He turned and glared. "_You traitor!"_ he howled. The wind blasted at us so hard, I heard a tree begin to splinter. "_Coward!_ You were on my side! You _looked back!"_

Was it my imagination, or had the shadows begun to growl?

Nico spat something inaudible at the conductor, raising his sword.

The growl grew, and I knew with a sinking heart that it wasn't the shadows.

Nico's gaze broke from the tortured musician and to the dog behind him, the red eyes and flat ears and raised hackles and rumbling, earth-shaking growl.

And then he ran.

Laelaps howled, a sound as piercing as the shadows had been to the early dawn sky, and bolted after him.

oOo

He was a beautiful dog, all in all.

Easily the size of a wolf, black-and-tan pelt gleaming in the sunlight, a thin blanket over thick streaming muscles. His form was perfect as he ran. His paws landed perfectly in place, in time, with enough force to make Gaea tremble and then the paw was gone again, claws of black ivory long and sharp yet undamaging to the sod, like the earth was made to be his to run upon. His mouth was kept neat and shut until he barked. And when he did bark, it was its own unique and unforgettable orchestra; the perfect staccato of his bold yell, crescendo and decrescendo perfectly in place, the accent of slightly yellowed fangs and the perfectly placed graynotes of slobber pealing between them. And its perfectly red eyes fixed forever on its prey. On something that most things did not dare eat or even come near.

A raven.

Glistening black feathers did not take off, did not fly, as they had been similarly grounded when we'd first met. The raven was quite agile; fast and low on two legs and very quick at the turns. He _made _the earth his, adapted himself to rule over it, and made it well. Practiced evasive maneuvers played out by his hand. And, much like his tormentor, he stayed utterly locked on his task.

_We're going to die here. You know that, right?_

By the gods, Nico, I don't think I'd known it like you had.

Somewhere, in the background, their race was set to a horrid sound. Laughter. A broken, shattered, snorting, couldn't-tell-if-it-was-really-sobbing laughter. My gaze found Orpheus.

The man was doubled over and pointing, shaking his head. All thoughts of so-called betrayal were clearly forgotten.

Then, rather abruptly, he composed himself and turned around once again with his baton raised. The orbs, limp but undamaged, began to quiver. And once more did that wicked melody rise into the winds.

I'm sorry, but had he just been _laughing?_ It was _funny?_

It was Hunter's genius that saved us then. With a single, wordless cry, fury and fire and the call of a bloody battle rang over Orpheus's melody. She, at least, was wise enough to know what to do with this sudden turn of events.

Fight.

I drew my sword and bolted to her side.

oOo

Forget the saying that numbers don't win a battle. They can and they will.

Despite how right it felt, to fight beside my sisters again and no one else – save the ever-constant ache for Ethan, everything else had been forgotten – we were losing. Even with the wolves on the outskirts. One, we were spread out. We were in the middle and our canines on the edge. Two, that totals nine against…. What… thirty, minimum. And those thirty did not die. Three, despite what my brother had done, Orpheus was not an option. The demons guarded him well and to shadow travel over there would only be counter-productive.

Brook had abandoned her shooting post and joined us in the form of a large tiger. Pretty orange fur and elegant black stripes had been stained with darker black and brighter red. Her grace was nothing compared to that of the giant lion still trying to pin Hunter under its claws.

Fury. At the secrets my brother had kept and his refusal to ask my permission before stealing Laelaps away and the mere fact that I would never hear the rest of that story, regardless the fact that I already knew the end. Anger that Ethan was not on my right. Complete and utter frustration and spite at the pulsing shadows, growing tighter and tighter in my mind, Nico's hard-bought time running out.

I shoved it all into my sword. That is what you do, when you fight demons, and it's what you do when you fight your own species. The aftermath is all that differs.

Întuneric tore its way through and ogre and tossed a Ventus's oncoming knife aside, bronze glinting like fire in the weak sunlight. The dagger bounded back in a heartbeat. My feet danced to the side and let it pass.

From behind me, the rippling pelt of a tiger flashed, and claws tore the demon into smoky shreds.

My eyes found Orpheus, for just a moment. Through the blackness all I could see was his shadow. Vehemence well beyond my control burst from my chest right then, and I wanted nothing more than to show him the sharp side of my sword.

But he was separated from us by demon upon demon. I whirled and showed my sword to a wolf in poor, unsatisfactory substitution. Black blood burned on my skin.

Behind us, the Manticore continued to pound Anonymous with his claws. "I'll turn _you _into a cheeseburger!" he yelled in his French accent.

I whirled and buried Întuneric into his flank. He gave a blood-curdling scream but kept fighting, hardly an inch of golden dust falling from the wound.

A scream from Brook tore my attention away. Hunter held her ground; she let me turn and help. The tiger was pinned beneath the angry form of three large black wolves, naught but flailing claws and sharp teeth. One began to slow and glow with Hunter's magic.

The second, Întuneric pierced through the back. Then a Ventus slammed into my side. I screamed and whirled on it, slashing it away. No. Not one more demon would take a step closer to her.

Behind me, a choking sound came from Hunter. The Manticore howled in victory.

By the time Moon and I got the last of the wolves off Brook – a panted "Mistress!" thrown somewhere between two fangs of killer eight notes – and I could spare a glance, she was cornered between two wolves, an ogre, and the cat. I'd been separated from her when helping Brook. And I was too far now.

First my magic, then my brother, then my blade by the way the demons tried to slice it apart, and now Hunter. My only thought was that if she fell, then so would we, and then the world as well.

And then there was water.

Gaea split open with a screech and a jet stream of salt water blasted the Manticore in the face. The cat yowled and leapt back with hackles risen and tail swishing, firing like mad. Hunter gasped and jumped out of her corner through the opening.

The ground burst beneath my feet. And then next to Brook. And across the clearing, momentarily stalling Laelaps. Another that didn't faze Orpheus two feet away.

And then water fell from the sky in a great torrent, crashing into our midst and soaking us all from head to toe. The earth-made ogres began to melt.

Then the water twisted and bent and solidified, and then stained with color, and then Shay stood there with us, daggers glistening with water and eyes with a matching malice.

"Lemme show ya how OCEANUS does it, landlubbers!" And she lunged for the nearest wolf.

I laughed and joined her.

Two dogs and a Ventus later, I saw an opening.

To my utter shock, the demons had begun to thin. Not by much, and Dr. Thorn was still a massive problem, and Nico was still just ahead of Laelaps, and to top it off Moon had gone missing. But just barely cleared they had. And Orpheus wasn't that far off.

I caught Hunter's glittering golden eyes through the gathering shadows. She didn't even have to ask. "Go! I'll cover you!" She sent a wild gesture in Nico's direction. "I'll be watching!"

_Watching for what?_ I wondered. Then I realized – for Nico to die and Laelaps to come charging at me. She'd warn me to back off before that happened.

Or was there something _else…_

I shook the half-formed thought from my mind, turned, and charged at Orpheus.

oOo

**Nyx: I wasn't really late on this one. It was finished well on time, but I deleted half of it because it was awful. This is MUCH better and I'm so glad I waited to post it, I don't regret the extra hours.**

**Nic: Whew. The self-loathing was getting annoying.**

**Nyx: Admit it, you were tempted to give me Altoids.**

**Nic: Don't tell me that was what all that was about…**

**Nyx: Anywho. This week is not as cluttered as the last, not quite, but still quite crowded. I may have to skip Thursday's chapter again. And I am honestly fearing the fact that the cover will be finished after the book is. But I am TRYING, guys. It will get done eventually! I went back and am re-drawing part of it because part of it sucks. Again, much like this chapter; I feel better having it take forever and be well done than short and poor.**

**Nic: Hey, if doing it faster gets you off the scene before the cops arrive… *munches on stolen cookie***

**Nyx: Please review, guys. I'm rather proud of this chapter, probably because I have the first version to compare it to. Your opinions are VERY much valued! And please don't tell me I've given you nothing to develop an opinion on. I don't wish to sound conceited, but I have no love for being shy or showing lack of self-confidence, either. I **_**know **_**there is something of good discussion here. Please do leave your side of that discussion in a review.**

**Oh, and I am still trying to forget about the poll. Letting votes accumulate.**

**And that Nico one-shot IS out, for those who are interested.**

**Well. I've said enough. Until we're up again, have fun, y'all. Stop and smell the roses and all that. Oh and happy Autumn!**


	53. Diamond in the Rough

**DISCLAIMER: Guess who threw Percy and Annabeth and even poor Nico into Tartarus.**

**Rick Riordan.**

**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Emoxkitten – Nyx: Well, then feel free to berate me for not checking my typos as often as you want :3**

oOo

I have run from many things in my life.

Demons, gods, Titans, humans. Cameras and machines and Living and Dead. And yes, even a dog, once or twice.

I had no name for what this was.

The footfalls screamed of dog, the ragged yet tireless panting of wolf, and everything else of demon. Oh, Laelaps was a dog, alright – I remember that much of the myth. So technically he should smell like a dog. He had to Moon that night Hunter and Brook had come across one of his victims.

He did not smell like dog.

With every hard pump of paws on sod and harsh whoosh of breath carelessly pushed past his teeth, it felt like I was standing before the world's largest hairdryer. A torrent of hot wind would blast from behind me and on it I could still smell the people he'd killed. The reek of rotting flesh and splashes of dog slobber threatened to drown me with every step. I could all but feel him on my heels, claws inches from my back. The snap of hungry jaws was going off like gunfire.

And despite running from those demons and Titans and gods and humans and dogs, running from Laelaps, I was scared. An instinct rooted deep began to spew adrenaline and with it came fear, the terror, the urge to flee and flee and flee until one had sprinted off the edges of the earth and was no longer for anyone's taking. My heart was maybe fifty beats ahead and gaining ground.

My lungs, of course, had begun to protest. As for the rest of me, I was doing alright.

That infernal barking rang in the air again, a cannon's fire, a single broken funeral bell, ultimately just annoying. I ran faster, my feet practically lifting off the ground as I ran.

Turns were a little tricky. I had to be fast and turn early, lest the move be predictable. But I dared not enter the trees. One, it would render their timepiece out of sight. Two, the forest would only slow me down. I could last longer out here. Out here in the clearing, racing around a writhing mass of angry demons and beneath a swirling cloud of shadows, were my legs had room to stretch.

The shadows were starting to burn. I'm sure Bree had it worse, but at least she would not grow tired. I would and I was. An ache had started in my chest, and I knew that I couldn't save myself from slip-ups much longer.

The clearing flashed by again, nothing but a blur of green and black and the golden gleam of the Manticore. Some blue – was that water? I couldn't tell, because I passed the battle too fast to even develop the urge to care.

_ Just run. Run and run and run. _It was the only thing I had left to do.

And running required not caring for the moment.

So I did not care about the fight or about a story or hardly about Orpheus. I merely prayed that Hermes give me the speed I needed to make this stupid plan work, and I prayed that I did not run alone. So many times, so often, that is what I did. I ran alone, in a maze, in a city, in graveyards, in sleep.

But I did not run alone now. She was here somewhere; the thought made me smile.

Before I reached the cliff again, I made another surprise turn and torn across the clearing once more, and Laelaps followed closely.

oOo

He sang.

Not once did he stop; he sent but one glance in the direction of my brother and then whirled on me with his sword unsheathed and his iniquitous melody unbroken. His lips and tongue and perfect teeth did not falter. If I hadn't heard the song they made, with his eyes closed, I'd never have guessed he was an insane man.

And then he would move and he'd open his eyes and take one wild sweep with his sword, and I'd feel the twist in the shadows, and I would know once more that there was no saving this kind of crazy.

I must admit, his first glance made me steal one of my own. My brother was tearing through the grass in his mad dash to escape Laelaps.

Escape. Yes, yes, Nico would escape. The hope rose like a panicked bird in my chest. Nico was clever and experienced and wise in his own strange way; imagining all that gone was merely impossible. I had no doubt in my mind that he was playing at something. There was a way he would get out of it alive.

I had to believe that.

Even if false hopes were something he hated as much as I'd thought he'd hated me.

_He'll make it,_ I thought.

And then Orpheus's sword met mine and that thought, with all others, vanished.

The golden flash whipped around, back and forth, so fast I could barely see it. He shoved two daring steps forward and pushed me two regrettable steps back.

Hot anger boiled in my throat. He had taken too much from me. And I had been trained to fight by Kronos, Ethan, and Nico. Like I would let him control the endgame.

I screamed and all but leapt into him, shoving him back with all my momentum and the swords pressed dangerously between us. Not a single hitch could be heard in his song.

The madman yanked his sword free and, with a noise not unlike one gurgling a thick clot of blood, brought the golden streak down on my right shoulder.

But I was no longer there.

Didn't even have to shadow travel – silent and swift, that was what I had been taught, what I had engrained into myself as much as Ethan and Kronos had. Întuneric flashed out once, twice, three times from two different sides.

Each time, he found a way to parry.

Nico had obviously taught him a lesson. New, somehow more calming layers filtered in beneath the melody. The winds would hold my sword at a standstill or he'd suddenly move faster and he was there, every time, blade a wall of flashing bronze.

I growled and tried to retreat a few steps and gain speed for a charge and feign. If I could only get past his guard, I would show him exactly what my little sword could do.

He whirled in a too-graceful way and sent my beloved Întuneric spinning away.

Well.

He moved like a dancer, like he'd honestly lost himself to the song, sold his soul for this spell and his life for a handful of notes. Humans – nor demigods – don't move like that.

He waited patiently, throwing his head back and singing all the louder. Around us, the wind began to howl out the haunting laments.

Something cold ran past my ear. "_This is child's play,"_ the winds whispered.

I glowered at Orpheus. "Say that to my face."

The wind blew harder as I charged, kept blowing as our swords twisted and writhed. "_Dear daughter, what a sight! Child's play with you, it is like the first epics all over again! How I love children's epics. We all do. 'Tis been that way for a while, it has."_

I ignored him and sliced for his throat. He dodged easily.

"_My child, you are. I see it in your eyes, I saw it in his. Tempted, tempted, caught in the threads among the Fate's loom. Quite like my daughter ought to be."_

Daughter. The man was crazy. He was mistaking me for the daughter he'd never had.

_"Break, break, break!"_ the small currents sang, well beneath the agonizing twists of the main melody. _"Break it into little pieces! You'll be stronger then!"_

It was the wail of a dying animal, that cry. It rose into the notes of the song. Something cold and forbidding flashed for a moment in my mind-

-And then there was fire.

It was like he'd lit the shadows ablaze. The song was the only thing I heard, so loud that my own screams were reduced to harsh vibrations in my skull and nothing more. Întuneric slipped away from my fingers once more and I found myself staring at the long grass.

_"Not your fault!"_ the smaller currents wailed giddily. _ "It won't be your fault!"_

It felt like someone was trying to rip my spine out from my stomach. Perhaps I had felt worse, after some battle or another fight, but it was enough. I curled up in the grass and prayed for it to pass, but I knew that it wouldn't.

Shrieking, screaming laughter tore at my eardrums. The grass before me was swallowed by shadows.

Nausea rolled through me. We were out of time.

For good, this time around.

_"My daughter you are! You'll spill blood and tear through cities and blaze like the epics they'll write! But it won't be your fault! Death and ashes! Never our fault!_

_ "Never our fault!"_

The desperate cry rang out again and again, a horrified shriek. I groaned and dared to move, first my right arm, knowing it'd be the worst. Orpheus did not stop me. Just shrieked and laughed, mostly to himself now.

"_Never my fault, never my fault! The sun was in my eyes!"_

Didn't know what he meant, didn't care. Half of it was insanity. I pushed myself to my hands and knees, teeth grinding in an effort to hold back the shadows' agony.

Nearby, I saw the writhing of demons. Brook's orange pelt flashed through the darkness. To the left, the Manticore's, a hulking sheet of gold. Water was flowing between my fingers.

_ "I heard something behind me!_

_ "I only meant to call your name!"_

Beyond them, Nico had gained ground on Laelaps. The dog was almost half a clearing behind him as they streaked away from the cliff, low to the ground, like panicked bullets.

Ha. The raven's light bones had saved him. Made for flight, he was…

Before my eyes, the raven lost his footing.

Orpheus's tortured screams were like the loud clatter of a thousand dry, piled bones. _"Not my fault!"_

I couldn't help but relax. The raven was fast and clever and several meters from the dog. And not even his wounded leg had bothered him so far. He got up and kept running.

The dog slammed into him.

It was naught but a grey streak, crossing the clearing faster than I could blink. I stared in utter astonishment as they flew an impossible distance together. Then they landed with a sickening _snap _and rolled on until the edge of the trees, crashing into a wide and proud trunk.

I wasn't sure what I was seeing for a moment. Like a dream that gave itself away by not adding up. The dog reared back and, raven locked in its jaws, rammed its quarry into the tree again. The force let Nico slip through his teeth and slump onto the scarlet-stained grass.

The dog snarled and opened its monstrous wide jaws, saliva dripping down like old cobwebs, eyes shocked and gazing at the motionless heap, before locking onto pale throat once more. Strong shoulders braced themselves as it made to whip its head from side to side.

"NOW!" Hunter screamed.

There was a flash of silver across the battlefield. Moon. From it sailed a white… ball?

The orb hit Laelaps in the back of the head. The dog froze and snarled, audible above Orpheus's horrible song.

"_I wrote a song for you! You wanna hear it?!"_

Slowly, he pull those enormous jaws off the broken raven and turned, glaring all the fires of Hell at that innocent little ball.

Then he tore it to shreds.

Before he was done, Hunter threw a second. The last one we'd been able to save from the funeral home. This one hit him squarely between the eyes.

_"La la la la la la la la la la la! LA LA LA!"_

The wolf-sized canine howled and took one swipe at the orb. It burst into shattered pieces. His crimson eyes narrowed as he growled, eyes scanning for the one who'd thrown it.

Eyes the color of my brother's blood landed on the air behind me.

No. Not the air.

The dog bolted, that perfect formation of bunching and releasing muscles, beautifully curved legs, flawless form. He sailed over my head gracefully and landed with horrible finality on the nearest floating orb.

There was the horrible sound of bending metal and then of shattered glass as his teeth closed in around the half-open orb. The shadows inside burst free with a snap. A bright red scratch opened across Laelaps's throat before they vanished to their respectful places. The pain in my chest began to lessen.

Then he lunged for the next. And the next.

In a blind, wild fury, Laelaps tore through orb after orb. Orpheus's insane shrieks cut off in shock as the vortex of shadows fell apart. The sun dared slice through our cover and pierce my eyes with dazzling, beautiful light as the dog shattered the last orb in those long jaws.

Glass is very pretty in the light.

Laelaps was in shreds; that beautiful pelt was torn and ripped and stripped with crimson that glimmered much like the melted sand. The shadows had left large patches of skin bare and without fur. In several places, the skin was gone, too, and all you could see was red.

That last orb send another swath of shadows straight through his skull. Not a crack or scratch appeared that time as the shards fell through his fangs and to the grass.

He stood, panting, falling off his last legs.

As the elbows in his forelegs began to buckle, those red eyes closed, and his form began to fade. Like mist vanishes in sunlight, the blood disappeared, and for a moment his pelt shone like new, and then even that was gone.

I swore I saw light in him. A dazzling white, brighter than the sun or the glow of any ordinary spirit. Icy blue eyes opened and stared at me from their place in that star-speckled outline.

And then he was gone.

Orpheus stared in shock at the empty space before him. The demons warred, unaware, to my left. The empty space between us was flooded with sunlight, and the grass littered with tiny diamond orb pieces.

Then, just under his breath…

"_La, la, la, la-la la, la la la…"_

The pain long gone, I slowly got to my feet, striding backwards step by step.

His insane brown eyes locked on mine, unhindered by the broken spell that'd been between us. "You, daughter, are coming with me."

oOo

He approached slowly.

He laughed and spat things about performing a song. That he had a right, because it hadn't ever been his fault. That I was tempted like he was and he would play his song for me and for Eurydice and then we'd be cleansed. His bronze sword shone bare and proud in the early morning light with a new angle for every step he took.

Eyeing it, I took a matching step backwards. My heart was pounding away in my chest.

But my mind was not on him.

"Nico!" No response.

Orpheus laughed. "The Ghost King, child? He is not here."

The wind began to pick up again. A new melody began; it was haunting like the wind in an old house and the whispers of demons and the silence of the birds at night. Of things that happened in the shadows and stayed there. Of silent deaths and hidden graves and the horrible fact that nobody would ever know.

In my mind's eye, I saw Laelaps drop Nico for the orbs Hunter and Moon had thrown. I saw him running and recalled his cunning in our countless days in the parking lot and even his fast-learned skill in the snowball fight. Of his complete and utter awe and utmost respect for the dead. For his magic. Love and passion, one might call it. I recalled his hand on mine in the tunnels and him hauling me over the cliff and I knew;

He wasn't dead.

Screw the logic. He wouldn't just… _leave_.

_"Nico!"_ I called, holding Întuneric close. The wind tugged fiercely at it.

Not a sound.

I risked a glance over my shoulder. "Nico! Nico, answer me!"

He lay still amid telltale crimson spills.

Something cold twisted in my stomach at the sight. No. No, it wasn't true. Nico was quiet and sly and crazy and ingenious at times and stories and solid ground, the lack of heights, and so much more. Nico wasn't _dead._

Though yet again, neither was Ethan.

I took one last glance at Orpheus to be sure he would follow me and not kill someone in my absence, and shot through the shadows. It was amazingly pain-free; it felt odd, after that horrible song.

I landed behind him, among the trees, staring out at the fight. I saw Orpheus blink in confusion at the place where I'd once stood. The Manticore still howled and sliced at Hunter. Shay guarded her back; Brook was working with the fact to mow down as many of the extras as they could. The demons had just barely begun to thin. I didn't stop to wonder how. Orpheus's gaze found me soon enough, and when it did, he charged.

A ball of needles caught in my throat as my own eyes landed on Nico. He was curled on his side before the tree, almost as if asleep. Blood was drizzled across his side and stained the fluffy white collar of his aviator's jacket.

Just unconscious, I told myself as I laid a hand on his shoulder. "Nico? Can you hear me?" There was no answer.

As gently as I could, as if I were disarming a bomb, I pulled his shoulder back to roll him over just a little. My other hand turned his head with it.

Hope fluttered in my chest. His eyes were half-open.

But something in me choked. They were glazed over and dull, the night sky missing its stars, a dark lake without its playful fish. Gems without luster and tools without purpose. He stared at the lighting skies without care nor passion nor blinking.

It was like my joints had become unhinged. Involuntarily, I dropped him, backed away shaking. He gazed dully out over the clearing. Crimson had coated my hands.

A horrible rotting sensation began to swell in my chest. A poison in my mind. And an awful sense of déjà vu.

It doesn't matter how brightly a soul burns. Death can snuff it out of a body faster than one can blink.

So many things dark things flew through my mind at the sight of my brother's body lying there. Pain, dread, horror. There was no way that he… That he'd joined Ethan…

Speaking of such. There was no one else I'd have rather had right then. But Ethan had left me long ago, and Hunter was busy, and now Nico was gone. The winter sun mocked me with its lack of warmth; suddenly the world had gone cold, cold, colder than Kronos's scythe.

And worse yet, I had the sinking feeling that this was my fault.

I could still hear Nico's voice, if I listened. That wonderful laugh that was so rare. Him talking to Phil and his promises that I wouldn't fall, his teachings of the dead, his battle cry ringing out louder than the Manticore could ever roar. Words from his rant.

_Life's about what you're willing to die for._

And then suddenly the world wasn't so cold.

It did not grow warmer; I grew icy, locked away in stone, grief frozen until a more convenient time. Utterly calm resolution set in. Hate like a frozen wasteland embedded in every last bone in my body. Staring at my brother then, for the first time since Ethan died, I felt no fear.

Not a single speck of it.

My gaze leveled to the approaching Orpheus, who was three-fourths of the way to us.

I drew Întuneric and ran to meet him.

oOo

The shadows were furious.

Cold whips lashed out, slicing at the scars on his skin, making red welts and streams of crimson. Întuneric slammed into his sword so hard, the bronze dented.

He yelled in surprise at my charge. The winds responded, that haunting melody rising again.

It didn't bother me the slightest.

Well beyond reason, I lunged again, slicing his sword in half with shadows as I went.

His own furious screech lit the song on fire as he dodged, parrying my strike with what was left of his baton. The wind shot up from behind him and, using it to his advantage, he leapt forward with a series of quick and hard swipes. I snarled as he forced me back.

But I was not in the mood to slave beneath him.

The shadows sliced at him from the sides, first at his face, at his shoulder, a daring one at his collar bone. Our swords clashed and ripped apart again. We spun and danced around one another. His tuxedo developed a new rip each time.

"I'll show you my song!" Orpheus cried as we fought. The words were torn from his throat as if he'd been choking on them, yet somehow found their place in the melody. "I'll save you from temptation! Come with me, little girl! I'll save you!"

There were no words for how cold I felt. Save me? He wanted so save me now, after having my brother slaughtered?

"No! You will harmonize!" Orpheus shrieked as Întuneric slammed into his shoulder. "Harmonize!"

"Over my dead body!" I spat, slamming my sword's hilt into his face. He cried out and stumbled back, cradling a bleeding nose.

Brown eyes glowered. "Harmonize! We'll save you!"

"You don't look so _saved _to me," I growled.

"You won't look back! You can't look back!" he shrieked. "Harmonize! Don't ever look back!"

The words were like ice on my spine. I felt that they should mean something, but right then, they didn't. Not a single thing mattered to me right then. Just this hungry predator awakened inside me.

With another battle cry, we continued to fight.

oOo

**Nyx: OMG HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON TWO! LOOK UP TRAILERS GUYS!**

**Nic: Oh, geez.**

**Nyx: HIS HAIR IS LIKE NICO'S BUT SHORTER! And I think it's braided at one part…**

**Nic: Did you really just now figure out there's a sequel?**

**Nyx: Anyway. Orpheus is crazy; some of the stuff he says makes sense, the rest of it doesn't, the rest you can kind of see how an insane man found that train of thought. There's a lot more on him in the next chapter.**

**Nic: You're not gonna cry over… this chapter?**

**Nyx: *glances away* Uh… Not again, no.**

**Nic: Kol….**

**Nyx: Please review, guys. I have time to work on the cover now. I'm going to work on it as soon as this is up. Well, I've had the urge to draw Laelaps lately, and he's not on it… Anyway. Today is a drawing day. I'll be working as hard as I can.**

'**Til Monday, guys.**


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